Reign of Chaos Book One: The Gathering Storm
by Rogue Hunter
Summary: Pre X7: A new, dangerous reploid has been created. Can it be stopped?
1. Prologue

Here is my latest story. I hope to have the next chapter done shortly. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own X, Zero, or any of the Megaman cast.

**Prologue**

"Aren't you done yet?"

Orpheus ignored the yellow armored reploid's comment and continued to type commands into the computer terminal in front of him. He stared in fascination at the readouts that appeared on the screen from the scans he had just finished running. They were unlike anything he had seen before; of course nobody had ever seen anything like the Nightmare before. Orpheus tore his gaze from the computer screen to stare at one of the few remaining objects in the laboratory, a plexiglass cube located a five feet from his work station. Within the cube were two specially designed Tesla coils that worked together to produce an energy field around the ghostly, blue sphere between them and connected to the top of the cube was a cable that ran across the floor and whose end was attached to the base of a cylindrical container on the other side of the lab. The scientist stared in open wonder at the blue sphere as he pondered the impact it would have on his project.

_A Nightmare soul, for once the Hunters sent us something useful . . ._ he thought before turning his attention back towards the screen before him. Usually when the Hunters sent something in for analysis, it was typically some piece of technology that had been smashed to the point where little useful information could be learned from it. When the Hunters normally did retrieve some new or unusual technology intact, they tended to analyze it themselves before sending it on to the Reploid Research Team. Traditionally the RRT had always surpassed the Hunters in the ability to analyze and develop new technology, but in recent years however, the Hunters' own Research and Development team had begun to rival the RRT in that regard. This caused some of the RRT's scientists to think that the Hunter's were trying to make themselves less dependant on the RRT for weapons and enhancements as well as keeping any technology they captured from the Mavericks for themselves – Orpheus couldn't help but grin at that idea given the fact that the RRT had been keeping certain things secret from even some of its own members for years, such as the project he was working on.

Orpheus had no doubts that the Hunters were running their own analysis on the other Nightmare souls they must have collected by now and quite frankly had no intention of wasting his time writing up a report for them about it. He was more interested in whether or not the Nightmare soul could benefit his project and the scans looked promising.

Orpheus smiled as he reviewed the results of the scans one last time. _If these readouts are correct, then it will be possible to harness the Nightmare soul and use it to greatly enhance the prototype's abilities. This new model could surpass even X or Zero in power . . . too bad Alia is no longer here. Her assistance would have greatly sped up this project and she might have been able to decipher the Nightmare soul's code enough for us to make more of them for future projects. _He shook his head to clear away thoughts of his former colleague and refocused his full attention on the project.

"Hey mister, did you hear me?"

Orpheus groaned as he swiveled his chair around to face the yellow armored guard who had brought the Nightmare soul to the lab. Orpheus glared at him, just long enough to express his displeasure over the interruption of his work, before responding.

"Yes, I heard you," Orpheus stated calmly. "To answer your first question, I am not done yet and if you keep harassing me, it will take just that much longer for me to finish this project." The scientist turned his chair back around to resume his work, only to be interrupted once more by the guard.

"Listen sir, there have been sightings of the Nightmare nearby and you've ignored the evacuation order issued three hours ago. I don't know what this thing you're working on is, but it's not worth risking our lives. I suggest we finish packing up and evacuate, especially before . . ." - the guard paused and looked warily at the cube containing the Nightmare soul - "that thing turns back into a Nightmare."

Orpheus did not bother to turn around to reply to the guard this time. "The project is at too delicate of a phase to move, we're still compiling the DNA file, there are still parts we need to finish adding armor and synthflesh to, and the Nightmare soul may very well be vital to project XT-203's success," he responded irritably. "You also needn't worry about the soul reverting to its viral form. Those Tesla coils are generating a current around the soul that will prevent that from happening and they still have several hours worth of power left in their batteries – besides for some reason a Nightmare soul looses its ability to revive a Nightmare once it's come into physical contact with a reploid. Even if it did turn back into a Nightmare, it's better for it to happen in an abandoned building than wherever everyone else has evacuated to. I'm also not about to abandon something I've spent years working on just when it's nearing completion. So don't even bother suggesting that we go and leave everything behind."

The guard stared at the scientist while listening to the explanation, trying to decide if the man had lost it. The guard finally just shook his head; He felt that the smart thing to do was to forget about the project and leave the RRT facility, but there seemed to be no way to convince Orpheus of that. Besides he had his orders, he couldn't leave until Orpheus finished what he was doing or until the scientist told him he could. Until then, it was the guard's job to make sure Orpheus remained safe. As the guard glanced uneasily around the nearly empty lab, he found himself wishing that somebody else had gotten this assignment.

The lab, located on a sub-level of the main facility of the Reploid Research Team, had been stripped of almost every piece of equipment that was not essential to the project Orpheus was working on. Even the Reploid Research Team insignia had been removed from the wall. The only things left in the room were a set of scanners that were aimed at the Nightmare soul, the computer Orpheus was using, and the big cylinder shaped container on the other side of the room from the Nightmare soul.

The guard looked at the cylinder for a moment. The cylinder itself was little more than a glass tank, with a large metal base bolted to the floor, the top of the cylinder was sealed and had various wires and tubes connected to it from the ceiling and wall. Inside the tank itself, was bubbling, bluish fluid and what appeared to be a person floating in the substance. A work station next to the cylinder flashed regular reports on the being's status on its screens. The guard walked closer to the cylinder to get a better look at what was floating in it and barely suppressed a shudder.

The being in the tank was a partially completed reploid. Most of its body was already covered in what seemed to be a black, featureless combat armor, except for the right arm and the calf of the left leg. In those spots the endoskeleton and internal components of the reploid were still visible. But what made the reploid's appearance truly creepy was the fact that no synthflesh was on its face, leaving a bare metal skull exposed. The skull appeared to have a permanent, toothy grin that only added to the face's eeriness, especially since it was framed by a featureless helmet.

The guard slowly backed away from the tank and resumed his post at the entrance to the lab, unable to shake the unsettling feeling he got from being around the half-finished reploid. Meanwhile, Orpheus was running some calculations and grinned as he saw that what he wanted to do with the Nightmare soul was possible. The procedure would be difficult, but it would make the prototype reploid almost unstoppable. It would also be the crowning of his career.

Several hours later, Orpheus stood by the cylinder's workstation and finished preparations for the procedure, thankful that the guard had decided to leave him alone and wait outside the lab. He was going to attempt to merge the compiled DNA file with the Nightmare soul and then download the modified DNA file into the reploid, bringing it to life. The scientist knew that there was a danger that the procedure would fail, resulting in the loss of both the Nightmare soul and the DNA file. The benefits however would be immeasurable. The prototype reploid already had one of the most advanced auto-repair systems ever created, an experimental armor, and a few other innovative systems, particularly the weapon built into its hands. But if it could also gain the abilities of a Nightmare virus – most notably the ability to pass through solid objects and the reality warping effects attributed to the virus – then it would be the ultimate warrior.

Orpheus looked affectionately at the reploid within the tank. He and his colleagues had labored for years, working in secrecy on it, and now all the hard work had come to fruition. He felt a measure of pride about being the only member of the project's team to witness the reploid's birth, the others already having evacuated. The last piece of the armor had been attached, but the face still didn't have synthflesh on it yet – though having a skull for a face seemed fitting for reploid designed solely for war. Adding it was relatively simple procedure that could be performed even after the reploid was activated; besides he was concerned about the Tesla coils power running out and possibly having the Nightmare soul revert to its original form – despite his earlier assertion to the guard that such a thing wasn't possible.

Orpheus typed the final command into the computer and executed the procedure. He watched as the Nightmare soul seemed to dissolve into tiny particles that flowed into the cable attached to the cube containing it. He watched the readouts as the machinery and computers in the base of the cylinder began to merge the Nightmare soul's data with the DNA file and then recompile it. Once the DNA file was through recompiling, the process of loading the program into the reploid body began. The DNA file was downloaded through wires that were connected to the base of the reploid's neck and Orpheus breathed a sigh as the display indicated that the procedure had been successful. There was no sign of file corruption or any other negative side effect of integrating the Nightmare soul with the DNA file and the prototype was now ready for activation.

The scientist frowned as the computer initiated the activation process and bolts of electricity began to fill the tank holding the reploid. It had just occurred to him that nobody had ever decided on a name for the prototype, they had always just referred to it as either the "prototype" or by the official project name XT-203. Contrary to what some people thought, reploids did not always have names picked out for them prior to activation. Sometimes a reploid was allowed to choose its own name, sometimes the name was pre-selected for the reploid, and other times a reploid simply changed its name if it didn't like the one it already had. As he watched the flashes of lightning and the bubbling blue liquid within the tank, Orpheus decided that the reploid would really need a name. XT-203 simply wouldn't do for when the reploid was revealed to the world. While the scientist pondered what to name his creation, it began to move and placed its hand against the glass.

The guard finally couldn't take it anymore. After waiting outside the lab for a few hours, he had come to a realization. Standing watch, alone, in the hall of an abandoned laboratory complex where some crackpot scientist was working on an experiment was just as unnerving and creepy as being in the room with the scientist and his experiment, where he could at least keep an eye on what Orpheus was doing. He opened the door to go back in the lab and saw the reploid that had been floating in the tank standing over Orpheus's body. The guard wasn't sure if the scientist was alive or dead, but he did not hesitate in aiming his rifle at Orpheus's attacker and firing a three round burst at him. The bullets hit XT-203's chest armor, leaving indentations but failing to penetrate it. A blue light flared in the eye sockets of the reploid's face as he examined where the bullets hit him, seemingly in surprise at what had just happened. XT-203 then looked up at the guard as energy blades emerged from the backs of his hands. The guard retreated through the lab's doorway, shutting the door behind him, and ran down the corridor.

Seconds later the guard heard the footsteps of someone running after him.

Hope you enjoyed this. Please read and review.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

            As X surveyed the room one last time, he felt the urge to look away in disgust, but years of war and death had ingrained a level of tolerance for seeing sights like this one.  However, learning to tolerate something didn't always mean a person got used to it – there are just some things that a person never gets used to.

            The small, barracks-like building he stood in had once served as one of the living quarters for the inhabitants of refugee camp 5 in Reconstruction Zone 7 of Sector 345690.  The place was littered with smashed furniture and the bodies of dead refugees.  Some of them had been cut into pieces while others just had deep slash marks all over their body, but all of them had stab wounds.  The contents of several boxes had been scattered on the floor, probably from either the struggle put up by the humans and reploids who had sought safety from their attackers here or from a frantic, last minute search for anything that could be used as a weapon.  There was no sign of forced entry into the building, other than the door X had to break down to get inside.  This struck X as odd since the windows and remaining door were all barricaded.  For someone to get in, they would have had to take out at least one of the hastily erected barriers.  X wondered what could possibly have gotten in and out of the building without having to destroy any of the barricades.

            It was possible that it had been reploid with a short-range teleporter but the signs of the struggle looked wrong for that.  Almost all teleporters had some characteristic that gave away their use, usually a sound or flash of light, but there was no indication that the refugees had reacted to any such warning sign before they were attacked.  From what X could tell, something had happened inside the building to cause the refugees to burst into a sudden panic.  

            A chill ran down X's spine as his he made eye contact with one of the corpses, briefly flushing away the anger he was feeling.  There was something eerily familiar about the lifeless, blank stare of the body's eyes that gave him a strange sense of déjà vu.  X dismissed the sensation as a voice spoke through his communicator.

            "X, did you find something?"

            The blue Hunter looked away from the carnage as he spoke into his helmet's communicator.  "Yeah Zero, more bodies.  All of them appear to have been hacked to death with a beam saber and they all have a distinctive stab wound in their chests, like someone ran them through.  It's just like the camp the 23rd found last week.  What about you?  Did you find any signs of survivors?"

            "No.  The only thing I found here is some wrecked equipment and more bodies.  These people weren't even armed . . . who could do something like this?"  Zero replied the anger over what happened and his inability to find anything that could help discover who was responsible was evident in his voice.

            X thought that Mavericks were the obvious culprits, but this attack didn't match their method of operation.  Normally when Mavericks hit a camp they left a few survivors, trashed the shelters, and looted the place of anything useful.  But nothing appeared to have been stolen and the camp itself was largely intact.  It was as though the attacker specifically targeted the refugees themselves.  The incident a week earlier had occurred near an abandoned Reploid Research Team facility and the similarities between the two attacks indicated that the same person or group was responsible.  Because of the camp's close proximity to the facility, a government team moved in and took the investigation out of the Hunter's hands.  There was still no word on what the government team had found during their investigation.

            _At least since this place is in the middle of nowhere, they won't have an excuse to take over this investigation_, X thought grimly.

            "Captain X, sir," a voice called out from behind him.  X turned to face the orange armored reploid addressing him, carefully stepping over a severed arm in the process.  

            "Yes Charger, what is it?"

            "We've finished sweeping the camp.  There's no sign of anybody here other than us and Unit 0 . . . should go ahead I put in the call to HQ for somebody to send over the forensics team and a recovery unit to deal with the bodies?"

            "Yeah, go ahead and put in the call.  We've done all we can for now," X said angrily as he stalked by Charger and out the door of the building.  Scenes like what X had seen in the refugee camp always managed to arouse a feeling of rage within him; sometimes the feelings of anger were so strong they scared X himself.  The feeling of frustration over not being able to arrive in time to help the refugees only fueled his anger over the situation.

            The refugee camps had been established after the Nightmare incident to deal with the displaced human and reploid populations caused by it and the Eurasia crisis.  Even though most of humanity had fled to underground shelters called warrens during the colony drop, millions of humans had been stranded on the surface as the warrens filled up.  The humans left behind were usually the ones who lacked the wealth, influence, or a particular expertise deemed 'vital' to preserving society that could have secured them a place in the warrens.  Many of the refugees wound up heading for any nearby Hunter base to seek shelter and their sheer numbers had quickly overwhelmed the Hunter's resources.  The camps had been established to help shelter the refugees and put them to work in helping to repair the damage done to the planet by debris form the Eurasia colony.  Whether it was moral or not to effectively force the refugees to aid in the reconstruction projects the Hunters initiated was a matter of constant debate, but many thought it better to keep the refugees occupied with some form of work rather than let them sit in the camps all day with little to do.  

            Eventually the camps began to suffer from overcrowding and the problems associated with it.  The Hunters were forced to create numerous smaller camps all over the world to alleviate the overcrowding problem.  Regrettably the policy resulted in more camps than the Hunters could afford to protect, even if they hadn't suffered the losses sustained during the Nightmare and Eurasia Crisis.  Since it was against procedure to issue weaponry to the refugees, this meant most of the camps were defenseless.

            Fortunately the remaining Mavericks created during the Eurasia crisis were scattered and disorganized, which meant attacks on the camps by them were a rare occurrence.  On the downside, the lack of a Hunter presence in most areas brought into existence vigilante and militia groups that could be just as dangerous to the refugees as the Mavericks.

            The only thing the Hunters could do to try and protect the refugees was to send patrols out to as many camps as they could on a regular basis and monitor the airwaves for any distress calls from a camp

            When the Hunter HQ picked up the automated distress call from camp 5, it immediately dispatched X and Zero's units to investigate.  Normally deploying both Unit 0 and the 17th would be considered overkill for an attack on a target like a refugee camp, but like many other Hunter units, their ranks had been depleted by recent events.  Both units were only at half strength, which made sending them together seem like a wise precaution since there was no information about who was attacking the camp.  However they arrived only to find no attackers and the massacred inhabitants of the camp.  They had gotten there too late to save anyone - a fact that did little for the morale of the Hunters on the scene.

            Charger radioed for the recovery and forensic teams as X stormed through the camp to see if there was something they had missed, some clue as to why the camp had been attacked or the identity of the attackers.  He wanted to find who was responsible and bring them to justice, one way or another.  Zero's question about who could do something like this echoed in his mind.  But that question was not as important to X as two other questions:  Why would a person slaughter all these people and, more importantly, how could anyone bring themselves to do it?

            As X continued his trek through the camp, the sight of the refugees' remains and the thought of the brutal manner in which they were killed caused him to clench his fists in anger as his mood continued to darken.  The sorrow and guilt he had felt about what happened to them when he first arrived had dissolved into a burning rage at the unfairness of the situation.  _Why?  After all the fighting, have we really made a difference at all if something like this happens to innocent people just trying to survive?_  

            X finally came to a halt at an equipment shed as a crimson armored Hunter with a blond ponytail emerged from it.  Zero appeared calm and collected, but the glint in his eye and his rigid stance gave away his own feelings about what happened at the camp.  Zero was better at concealing his feelings than X, but X had known him long enough to be able to tell when he was upset about something.  Zero was angry about the attack – in his opinion taking out unarmed noncombatants was an unforgivable offense – and frustrated by the lack of progress in figuring out who was behind it.  

            Zero, sensing X's bad mood, regarded his friend for a moment before speaking.  "Did you already call in the recovery teams?" Zero asked, keeping his voice neutral.

            X took a deep breathe to calm himself and clear his head before responding.  "Charger's taking care of it now.  Maybe the investigative team will find something we missed.  Did your guys find anything on the perimeter sweep?"

            "Vape and Flint came across a single set of footprints heading north, away from the camp.  They tracked them for about two miles, but lost the trail.  No sign of who made them either," Zero replied.

            X frowned at that.  "That's odd.  Most of this area is just wasteland now . . . I wouldn't think anybody would get too far on foot." – X's expression turned hopeful – "Do you think they were made by a survivor?"

            "There's no way to be certain.  The fact that this area is mostly wasteland makes tracking the prints difficult, even for as short of a distance as we were able to find them. I don't think they were made by whoever attacked though.  There aren't many reploids around that can take out this many people and leave before we respond to the distress call . . . Even if that was the case, if the guy had any brains he'd have teleported away and not walked off into the wastelands."

            "Which means whoever's responsible could be anywhere by now," growled X.  It was virtually impossible to trace a teleport.  You could detect when a teleport signal left or arrived in an area, but only with the proper sensors and if you knew which area to scan.  If you were really lucky it was possible to obtain a vector for a reploid teleporting out of an area and narrow down the possible destinations.  But if the culprits had teleported, it meant that they were most likely dealing with combat reploids since most civilian reploids lacked internal teleporter units.  To X however, it didn't make sense to teleport from some distant part of the globe just to attack a refugee camp in the middle of nowhere.  "Zero, are there any cities or old bases in this area?"

            Zero recalled the maps he had seen for Zone 7 and then nodded his head.  "Yeah, there're a couple of cities in this Zone . . . there's also the RRT facility near where the first camp that was attacked - I think there's an abandoned Reploid Forces base in Zone 8 too.  They may wind up being dead ends, but it can't hurt to check those places out."

            X nodded in agreement.  Searching those places would probably be a waste of time, particularly the cities if for no other reason than their sheer size.  Maybe Signas would authorize a satellite recon of the areas for unauthorized activity.  "It's worth looking into," he paused as a realization dawned on him.  "Zero, wasn't Gate's lab in the sector next to this one?"

            "Yeah X, but you blew it up pretty good.  I don't think we're dealing with one of his creations."

            "I hope not.  The last thing I want to run into is another High Max."

            "He wasn't that tough," harrumphed Zero.

            "That from the man who got his butt kicked by an old scientist," X retorted.

            "Only because he cheated," mumbled Zero.  Even two months after it happened, it still disturbed him how easily Issoc had rendered him helpless.  Not even Alia or Douglas fully understood how his systems worked, yet a man Zero had never even heard of before the Nightmare broke out – though Zero felt there was something oddly familiar about him – had been able to freeze his systems easily.  The memory of the incident still sent a shiver of fear down Zero's spine.  Zero didn't want to think about what might have happened if X hadn't been there.  The only time he had felt that helpless before was when Iris lay dieing in his arms.  Zero had never been so completely at another person's mercy before. In truth, he had never felt as panicked or afraid as he had at that moment either.  He was just glad the nutcase was gone.

            Zero shook his head to chase away the memories and focus on the matter at hand.  "X, I know we need to provide security for the teams that are being sent in, but there's really no point in both of our units staying here.  My team can stay behind as the security detail and the rest of you can go back to base."

            "No," X said sharply.  "Your team can go back to HQ if you want.  I'm going to stay here and see this mission through to the end."

            Zero recalled X's demeanor from when they had ran into each other.  To somebody unfamiliar with him, X may have seemed to be methodically checking the camp one last time, but to Zero it was apparent that being in this place was getting to his old friend.  Lately X had started to seem a little on edge.  He was unusually restless and occasionally reacted abnormally, often unnecessarily, harsh towards the people around him.  Being in this place just seemed to fuel whatever was making him behave that way, demonstrated by the fact X had to make an effort to calm himself down before talking to him.  Zero knew that X was pretty sensitive towards the plights of others and but he rarely allowed himself to get worked up to where he had to make an obvious effort to calm down, especially during a mission.  The few times X did get really agitated usually involved either Sigma or a situation where he was unable to do anything but watch as a friend was left for dead.

            "Listen X, I really think you should go back to base . . . what happened here really seems to be getting to you.  It'd probably be wise if you for you to get away from here for a while."

            X gave Zero a puzzled look.  What was Zero talking about?  He was fine.  Sure he was a little angry about what had happened at the camp, who wouldn't be?  Was Zero implying that he couldn't deal with the situation?  Why would his best friend be thinking something like that?  Didn't Zero have any faith in his abilities?

            "What are you saying Zero?" X asked with a mix of caution and confusion.  He was careful to keep the hurt and anger that welled up inside him at the idea that Zero didn't think he could finish the mission he had been assigned.

            "Nothing, X," Zero answered calmly, "You just seem little on edge right now and I thought –"

            "I can handle it Zero!" X exploded.  "It's not like I haven't had to deal with this stuff before.  It's just like any other Maverick attack – some nutcase kills a bunch of people while spouting off some rhetoric about making the world a better place when they don't have a clue on how they intend to improve things beyond just killing anyone they happen to come across.  Then we're left to clean up after them.  There's nothing that makes this situation any different from the ones just like it in the past."

            "Yeah, except that you seem to be taking this one a lot more personally than you have the other times," retorted Zero.  "You know as well as I do that the key to a successful investigation or to getting a mission accomplished is to keep a clear head.  Right now your feelings seem to be on the verge of getting the better of you and as your friend, I have a right to be concerned when that happens."

            X's eyes hardened and he replied coldly, "I have it under control Zero."  His expression softened as he continued in a calmer voice, "Whether you like it or not Zero, my team and I are staying here till the investigators and the recovery team leave.  Don't worry about me, I'm fine.  I've just been a little stressed lately, that's all."

            "Fine X, stay if you like, but my team isn't leaving either."

            "I don't have a problem with that," X said coldly.  "Any suggestions about how we should set up for the arrival of the investigators?"  X and Zero briefly discussed the security arrangements and then X relayed them to both units.

            Zero wasn't sure how he had expected X to respond to his suggestion about leaving, but he hadn't expected the outburst X gave him.  For X to talk like that, something really had to be bothering him.  The problem was that trying to figure out what was bothering X was sometimes harder than pulling hen's teeth.  X was always trying to take the weight of the world on his shoulders, but when it came to his own personal problems, he was notoriously reticent about allowing people to help him or even just talking about them.

            As he and X parted ways to oversee the security preparations, Zero decided that figuring out what was with X would have to wait until later.  Now was simply not the right time or place to confront him about it.

            XT-203 sped through the wasteland using his dash thrusters.  He relished the sensation of speed he felt while using them.  He especially liked the feeling he got when he would jump at the end of a dash and sail through the air using the momentum he had built up.

            He could sense more of those mechanical beings off in the distance and headed towards their location.  He didn't understand how he knew where to find them – of course there wasn't any need to since his ability to detect them wasn't dependant on understanding how he did so – nor did he know how he knew they were called reploids.  

            The prototype could not remember much prior to his journey through the wasteland.  The first clear memory he had was of awakening in a place with a bunch of tents and buildings that was littered with dead bodies.  Some of the bodies were mechanical in nature while others were made of some soft, squishy substance.  The names for the beings he saw came to him unbidden, reploids and humans.  

            After that the prototype had sensed something off in the distance and he instinctively knew that it was more reploids.  A strange compulsion to go to them swept over him.  He had initially begun walking into the wasteland and eventually discovered his ability to dash using the thrusters on his feet.  Both modes of travel felt strangely familiar, yet somehow wrong.

            The prototype abruptly came to a halt.  He sensed reploids from the place he had left.  How was that possible?  They were all dead when he left.  He decided it didn't really matter as the compulsion to head towards his destination caused XT-203 to resume his journey.  Even though there was a greater number of reploids back at the place he had started from, there was something about the ones further away that appealed to him more.

            XT-203 continued through the wasteland towards his goal, not knowing why he was going there and not caring.

            _Where could she be?_ Charger wondered as he searched the camp.  X had issued assignments to the 17th and Charger was supposed to be helping with perimeter security.  However the person he had been partnered with didn't show up and wasn't answering her communicator.  Growing concerned, he had decided to do a quick search of the camp to try and find her.

            It probably would have been wiser to just ask the rest of the Hunters to keep an eye out for her, but Charger didn't want to do that except as a last resort.  He would feel rather foolish alarming the others only to have the problem turn out to be a malfunctioning communicator.  As he passed the entrance of the camp's mess hall, he heard a light sobbing.  Charger opened the door and looked inside the building, but saw nothing.  He then walked cautiously towards the back of the building.  He heard the crying grow louder as he drew closer to the rear of the building.

            He wondered what the source of the noise was.  Was it a survivor?  Were they still hiding from whoever did this?

            Charger rounded the corner and found the source of the sobbing, a raven haired girl sitting on the ground, hugging her legs.  The girl wore silver trimmed, purple armor that faintly shimmered in the dim sunlight that filtered through the clouds and a headset with a green visor attached to it.  On the left shoulder guard of her armor was the crest of the 17th Unit.

            "Tempest, are you crying?" Charger asked incredulously.

            "No," she began quietly, "Hunters don't cry . . ."

            _At least not in the middle of mission,_ mused Charger upon hearing her parrot the phrase Hunter drill instructors often yelled at cadets who were caught shedding tears.

            "You're a rotten liar rookie," Charger said sternly.  "Didn't you hear X assign us to patrol the perimeter while the investigators and recovery teams did their job?"

            "I turned off my communicator . . . I didn't want anyone to know I was crying," she sniffled.  "I'm sorry for causing you trouble . . . I just couldn't stand this place anymore."

            "Just forget about it, stop crying, and let's do our job already," Charger responded nonchalantly as he turned and began walking toward the camp's perimeter. Tempest stood up and followed sullenly.

            "How do you do it?" she asked sadly.

            "Do what?"

            "Not care what happened here."

            He spun around to face Tempest, shocked and upset by what she had said.  "Listen rookie," he growled, "you're on really thin ice right now, so don't push it!"

            Tempest cringed and timidly muttered an apology.  Charger let out a sigh as he calmed down.  Charger knew he had probably overreacted to the accusation and that he hadn't handled the whole situation very well.  

            This was the girl's first mission he reminded himself.  It was to be expected that she may not have ready for the scenario she encountered at the camp, especially since the demands for new Hunters had resulted in most recruits going through an accelerated form of basic training – two months instead of the usual seven – that didn't necessarily prepare them as well for what they'd face in the field.  Normally someone as inexperienced as Tempest wouldn't have made it into the 17th, but the unit had been desperate enough for new personnel that she had been readily admitted.  Not that any of that lessened the sting he felt from being asked Tempest's question.

            He didn't know what to do though; he wasn't really used to dealing with people going through some kind of emotional distress because of a mission.  This was normally the kind of thing that he let X or Slag handle.  What added most to his uneasiness was that he didn't really know her that well and that he was used to her normal demeanor as an irritatingly cheerful chatterbox.  For all he knew that wasn't who she really was and she only behaved that way when she was trying to make friends with strangers.

            "Stop apologizing rookie," Charger said calmly.  "You shouldn't go around accusing other people about not caring though.  If someone doesn't care when something like this happens, then they have no business being a Hunter in the first place.  Now come on, we really should get started on our patrol."

            "Yes sir," Tempest replied in a less gloomy voice, thankful that he didn't seem to be angry at her anymore.  She didn't know why she had a tendency to say things the wrong way at the wrong time, but it happened to her more than she liked.  

            What she had meant to ask Charger how he was able to deal with seeing things like what they found in the camp.  Instead it had come out sounding like she was accusing him of not giving a damn about what happened to the refugees.  Tempest just couldn't believe that someone could slaughter so many people for no apparent reason and she couldn't describe how sick and revolted she had been upon seeing the remains of the camp's inhabitants.  

            She now found it hard to believe that not too long ago, she had been eager to prove herself on this mission, her first real mission ever.  She had seen it as a chance to prove to everybody that it hadn't been a mistake to let her join the 17th; that she did belong in the unit.  It was almost amazing how quickly that eagerness had turned into an overwhelming horror when she arrived at the camp.  She knew that things like this could happen, but that didn't prepare her for the reality of it.  And to top it all off, she had made a total idiot of herself in front of one the 17th's veteran members.  The fact she had been caught crying was embarrassing enough, but then she had to stick her foot in her mouth.  Tempest just hoped Charger wouldn't tell the others about what happened.

            _This is going to be a long day,_ she thought resignedly.

            X watched as the investigators moved through the camp with various scanners.  They would frequently stop to mark certain areas, take pictures, and sometimes put an item they believed to be important evidence into plastic bags.  Even though he was watching them, X was only half paying attention to them.

            He was still mulling over Zero's insinuation that he wasn't keeping a clear head.  Sure he had been a little irritable lately, but he wasn't letting it affect his judgment.  Where did Zero get off accusing him of that anyways?  It wasn't like Zero hadn't had his judgment clouded by his feelings in the past.  More than once Zero had chased after entire groups of Mavericks by himself, against better judgment, because he lost his temper.  X knew that he may be more prone to emotional outbursts than Zero, but he seldom let his feelings get in the way during a mission.  It also hurt to know his best friend thought he couldn't handle the situation.

            It wasn't just what Zero had said that was bothering X.  It was something to do with the crack he made himself about Issoc.  He had meant it as friendly jibe at Zero, though the crimson Hunter still seemed rather sensitive about it, but something about the comment bugged him.  It was similar to the feeling he had dismissed when he first saw the bodies in the camp.

            X's clearest memory of Issoc was the cold, lifeless gaze of the scientist's body when he stumbled across it in Gate's lab.  The eyes were dead, as though no life had ever been in them to begin with and they had evoked the memory of another incident from over a decade earlier, one X had tried to forget and put behind him ever since.  Even though Issoc's body hadn't had so much as a scratch on it and the bodies in the camp looked like a crazed swordsman had gotten a hold of them, the dead expression in the eyes were the same.  X had seen the eyes of dead reploids before, but the eyes of the refugees looked wrong somehow, just like Issoc's had.

            _You know what the connection is.  You just don't want to admit it, but ignoring it doesn't make it go away_, the thought came to him unbidden.

            X shook his head.  There was no connection.  The cause of death for the refugees was clear, someone had cut them up.  There was no way that what happened to the refugees could be like what happened to Issoc or at Leguz Island.  He was just being paranoid.  Maybe Zero was right about him being on edge . . .

            _No, I'm fine.  I've just been under a little stress._  _So maybe I have been a little irritable lately, it'll pass and then it's back to business as usual_, X assured himself.  The assurance did little to shake the feeling X was getting that before all of this was over, everyone was going to be under a _lot_ more stress.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

            Leanne Cormier walked purposefully through the halls of the residential section of Warren 113, her gold-flecked, brown eyes glancing at the address plates next to each apartment.  Her lab coat fluttered behind her as she moved briskly towards the apartment of her superior to deliver the report on the datapad she carried.  She finally spied the correct apartment number and came to a halt.

            She hit the call button and told the apartment's occupant her name.  The door silently slid into the wall and Leanne walked into the apartment.  Even though the apartment consisted of only a living room, kitchen, bedroom, and bathroom, it was quite spacious by warren standards.  Since space was at a premium in the underground shelters, most rooms, such as her own, had a cramped, utilitarian feeling to them that this one lacked.   Dwellings like this one were typically reserved for people whose position warranted it, such as a government leader or an influential industrialist.

            The walls of the living room were painted in a soft, pastel blue and there was soft, plush carpeting along the floor.  Ornate, wall-mounted lamps that appeared to have a dull bronze finish and a single overhead ceiling lamp cast soft light throughout the room.  Paintings from various cultures adorned the walls and an old, oak bookcase filled with works on a variety of subjects was right next to the door leading to the bedroom.  Next to it and directly underneath one of the wall lamps was a large, red chair with soft cushions and its accompanying ottoman.  A wood dining table with four wooden chairs was located near the entrance to the kitchen.  In the middle of the living room was a coffee table made up of a brass ring with four curved brass legs and a glass top.  A leather couch and two green recliners were arranged in the approximation of a circle around the coffee table.

            Leaning back in one of the recliners, reading a book, was a reploid with neatly combed, silver hair, wearing white armor covered with pale blue streaks.  He seemed to not be aware of Leanne's presence, though he was the person who let inside her the apartment by means of a small remote on the left arm of the recliner.  The reploid finished the chapter he was reading, closed the book, laid it down on the chair's right arm, and made eye contact with Leanne.  The human woman felt a brief minute of apprehension as her boss's brown eyes focused intently on her.  The feeling had nothing to do with the fact he was a reploid, it simply had to do with the way he looked at her.  In fact many people who met him often became unnerved when he looked at them.  It was probably just the intensity of the gaze that did it - there was nothing apparently malicious about it or his manner, but it did make one feel as though the man were scrutinizing everything a person did, right down to the tiniest gesture.

            "Please have a seat doctor," he said in a quiet, but powerful voice.  Leanne complied, handing him the datapad before sitting upright in the recliner across from him.  The reploid scanned through the report on the hand held device.  "So the Hunters found another camp with the inhabitants slaughtered . . . Is there any reason I should be concerned over this?"

            "Is it safe to talk about it here?" Leanne asked cautiously.  Her voice had a musical quality to it that some people found charming, a trait she seldom tried to take advantage of.

            "Yes, I had some associates make certain that there were no listening devices.  We can speak freely here," the reploid assured her.

            "Very well, as you may have noticed, the report radioed into Hunter HQ contains details just like the one from the attack on the camp last week–"

            "As I recall, the Council's investigation team determined that last week's tragedy was the result of a riot within the camp," he interrupted.

            Leanne didn't allow her irritation at being interrupted to show and responded "That's the official story, yes.  But given the real findings of the Council's investigators, the close proximity of the incident to our largest, most important lab facilities, and the description of the wounds from the Hunter's own initial reports – I think it's safe to say that we know what did happen there.  This new incident seems to be an exact repeat of last week's."

            The reploid nodded his head and for a moment his eyes seemed like they were looking at something far off in the distance, then they fixated on Leanne again.  "I figured we hadn't seen the end of this.  Now that we know what the cause might be, do we have any clue as to why it is doing this or how it was capable of getting inside some of those buildings without cutting a hole in the wall?"

            "No," she replied.  "Offhand – I would venture to guess that Orpheus may have been playing around with that Nightmare soul the Hunters sent over for analysis prior to our evacuation and that may have something to do with what's going on.  That or something went wrong with formation of the sentient part of its mind and it's just doing a variation of what we created it for."

            "It was a mistake to let him stay behind to finish things up," the reploid said calmly, "he may have been a genius, but he still wasn't always the sharpest knife in the drawer.  He probably wound up infecting it with the Nightmare virus.  We should have just put the project on hold until after Gate had been dealt with."

            The reploid's brown eyes seemed to flare up at the mention of the deceased renegade scientist.  To say that there had been no love lost between the two men would have been putting things mildly.  The influence Gate had acquired, the potential danger of his creations, and the way Gate flaunted the rules of the Reploid Research Team had always been a source of conflict between the two of them.

            "That's true, but it would probably have been wise to send a team back there when Orpheus failed to report in," suggested Leanne.

            Her superior made a dismissive wave with his right hand.  "No, that would have looked suspicious since we informed the Council that we had already retrieved everything of importance form there.  It would have also meant getting the Hunters involved.  I didn't want them to know about our little project just yet - but if it is responsible for what's happened at the camp, they'll learn about of its existence soon enough . . . is the council going to take over their investigation this time as well?"

            Leanne simply shook her head.  "They ruffled the Hunter's feathers enough by doing that last time; they aren't going to risk alienating the Hunters by doing so again.  Not when the Hunters are currently the only ones who can manage a project like rebuilding the planet."

            "That does seem likely," he affirmed, "Besides the Council only intervened last time because we brought pressure on certain members to deal with any incidents that occurred near that facility if something unforeseen occurred.  That way if someone had found out about the project, we could keep things quiet until we got a chance to recover it.  There seems little chance of keeping things quiet now.  If the Hunters complete their investigation, they'll figure out the connection between the attacks on the two camps on their own."

            "We should get started on damage control then.  Since this is most likely Orpheus's doing, we can let the blame fall on him if it comes to that.  The computers in the lab he was using were independent of the facilities network, so we may want to recover the data about the project from them - so we can start over again later if we want - and then destroy the hard drives as a security precaution."

            "Good idea Leanne, you were the project director so whoever we send will need your codes to authorize the download . . . we also need to come up with something to tell the members of the Council we can't influence and a story for the Hunters too, in case they discover this was the work of our project," the blue and white reploid replied.

            "What about the Hunter's current investigation?" Leanne asked.

            "Let them do their job and don't interfere in any way.  If the project is out of control, it's best just to let them deal with it." – A grin spread across his face –"They may even send what's left of it back to us for analysis.  Even if they do connect us with XT-203, we don't have anything to fear.  It's not like we were doing anything illegal by creating him."

            "Not technically anyways," Leanne said in a dubious tone.  "We need to be careful with how we deal with the Hunters though, our relationship with them has been – somewhat strained since Gate's insurrection . . . which brings up another matter . . . What about Alia?  If she tells them about what happened to Gate . . ."

            The head of the Reploid Research Team leaned further back in his recliner.  "What about her?  I doubt she'd be stupid enough to tell the Hunters the real story behind Gate's leaving us or how she was involved with the demise of two of his associates.  She knows better than to cross us and telling the truth would jeopardize her career in the Hunters. Besides, the official inquiry into Gate's recent activities was closed last month and it would take more than just her testimony to reopen it or begin an investigation into what happened at the RTT back then."

            The Council had ordered the Hunters to do an investigation into how Gate was able to cause such havoc and what his goals had been.  Because the Hunters had the more pressing issue of cleaning up the damage created by the Eurasia debris, the investigation had been reasonably short and appeared cursory.  There were things in the Hunter's reports that disturbed Leanne though.  Things such as allusions made to how the conflict between Gate and various members of the RRT may have played a role in the deaths of Gate's associates and creations, which had coincided with his decision to leave the RRT.  There was also the mention of something Gate had found and used to generate the Nightmare, but no real details about it other than a mention of it involving one of their best Hunters, Zero.  It seemed like the Hunters were not telling everything they knew about Gate or the Nightmare and that made Leanne uneasy

            _Of course, if the Hunters did know the truth about what happened to Gate back then, they may not release that information.  If they had included it in their report, we could have found out what they know and figured out a way to deal with it.  As long as we don't know what they know or what they can prove, if they were to spring the information later on, we'd be unprepared for it,_ Leanne thought nervously.

            "I think we've covered everything Leanne.  I will make the necessary arrangements to recover the data from the facility.  Then all we need to do is come up with a cover story and hide our influence in the Council's official investigative report for the earlier incident.  Such reports and evidence do get routinely lost or misfiled even in this day and age," the RTT head said thoughtfully.

            When Leanne finally left the apartment, she ran her fingers through her short brown hair and breathed a sigh of relief.  She was glad to be out of there and not discussing a cover up anymore.  The idea of a cover up unsettled her, but the Reploid Research Team could not afford the hit to its credibility that having a rogue experiment running around could cause.  Eventually the Hunters and the Council would be looking to different scientific organizations to participate more openly in the reconstruction program and having a project connected with the massacres of two refugee camps would definitely hinder the chances of the RRT playing a significant role in the reconstruction process.  Besides, this wouldn't be the first cover up she had been involved in and it probably wouldn't be the last.

            She hadn't been directly involved with what had happened to Gate – in fact she was only familiar with scientist by reputation – but she had known what was happening to him and turned a blind eye to it.  Eventually she had been involved in hiding the truth of what happened; lured by promises of money for her under-funded projects and the freedom she needed to do them.  One thing about being a researcher was that it didn't necessarily matter what your project was or how beneficial it could be, sometimes your funding depended largely on _who_ you knew, both inside the RRT and outside.  Even though the RRT provided funding for the experiments of its scientists, they could also get grants from outside sources such as businesses and governments.  Sometimes just having the right outside connections guaranteed a scientist better funding from the RRT itself.  Leanne had learned this lesson the hard way, struggling to meet budget and deadline requirements as she saw her funding get slashed several times while projects of lesser value scientifically received more funds from the RRT's appropriations committee because their project leaders had better connections in the realm of politics and industry.  When she finally agreed to help with the cover up, the head of the Reploid Research Team had put her into contact with outside sources to help fund her projects.  He had even been impressed enough with the results of her experiments to put her in charge of project XT-203.

            Leanne had found out during the cover up that, interestingly enough, many of the people involved with Gate's downfall hadn't realized they were even part of a conspiracy against him.  The few that were aware of it had either helped orchestrate the events or found out after the fact.  The latter were typically 'encouraged' to remain silent on the matter.  When Alia abruptly left the RRT to join the Hunters, the fear that she might expose what had happened had hung over the heads of most of the RRT's staff like a guillotine blade.  Eventually the fear subsided, only to have Gate's sudden reappearance spook everyone considerably and revive the fear that they may still be exposed.

            _Of course that's the problem with cover ups. Once you're involved you're committed to maintaining the lie and unless you have a very good contingency plan, the truth winds up locking you up rather than setting you free.  Then again you wouldn't have to worry about somebody exposing you anymore and that by itself must be a great relief,_ Leanne thought grimly.

            As she made her way to her own smaller, more Spartan abode, Leanne felt exhaustion start to overtake her.  She always felt this way after dealing with the head of the RRT, relieved and exhausted.  The relief seemed to come from getting away from the man, while the exhaustion was from withstanding the intensity of his gaze and the accompanying nervousness it gave her.  She swept the memory of the gaze away and sped towards her apartment, deciding that after some rest she would feel better.  Then she would have to get to work on whatever the cover up required of her.  As Leanne drew closer to her residence, she briefly wondered if Alia had the right idea about leaving the RRT.

            The Supreme Commander of the Maverick Hunters remained seated behind his desk as he swiveled his chair to face the wall-mounted monitor to his left.  His posture was relaxed but alert as he prepared to receive the incoming call.  Signas had been expecting the call for a while now, ever since Unit 0 and the 17th had been dispatched earlier to the refugee camp.  The face of a middle-aged Japanese man with slightly graying hair appeared on the screen.  It was impossible to tell what he was thinking.  Everything about the man's expression was neutral, an ability that was the result of years of political dealings, but it was clear that he was waiting for Signas to make the first move.

            "Councilman Tanaka," Signas addressed the man, "this is a pleasant surprise."  The statement wasn't entirely false.  Signas had been expecting to be contacted by somebody from the Council after notifying it about the attack on camp 5, but the fact that it was this particular member of the Council was a surprise.  Normally Signas would have been contacted by somebody a bit lower on the Council's totem pole.

            Councilman Saito Tanaka had been a member of the Council since Sigma's second uprising.  Shortly after X had put the Maverick overlord down, the question about the future of the reploid race came into question.  Back then, Tanaka had come to realize that it was simply impossible to get rid of the reploids, humanity had simply become too dependant on them and needed them to help repair the damage caused by Sigma's rebellion.  He also realized that any move to cease reploid production permanently could possibly begin a full-scale war between the humans and remaining reploids that would make Sigma's first two uprisings look like mere skirmishes by comparison.  The councilman had also been shrewd enough to realize that none of the human military forces were in any condition to fight such a war then, assuming they could ever be ready for an event of that magnitude.

            Realizing those things, Tanaka developed a policy that many of the more moderate politicians had since adopted.  The policy involved maintaining stable human-reploid relations by granting reploids enough rights to make it less likely that they would join the Mavericks, but not enough freedom that human populations would feel overly threatened.  Tanaka's view was that if maintaining stable relations meant changing the current status quo, so be it.  As a result, over the years reploids had often had rights granted and revoked, but never to the point that they would be considered equal to humans in the eyes of the law or that reploids would feel oppressed enough to break out into open rebellion.

            It would be misleading to label the councilman as pro- or anti-reploid rights since he didn't really care about the matter, except insofar as how granting or revoking such freedoms would make reploids more sympathetic to the Mavericks, whether humans were simply ready for reploids to have those freedoms, and how it could benefit him politically.

            "It is good to see you as well General Signas, I trust you are in good health?" the politician responded pleasantly.

            "I'm quite well and you?"

            "In as good of health as a man my age can be expected to be in."

            The small talk continued for several minutes as they discussed the conditions in the warrens and the camps along with other more trivial matters.  Signas had learned long ago that small talk was as an important a skill in politics as giving speeches was.  In the world of politics, small talk generally preceded a discussion about more important matters and could sometimes be used to glean information.  Tanaka didn't appear to be probing Signas for information he may not have given the Council, it seemed the small talk was simply a precursor to discussing the attack on the camp.

            Signas briefly entertained the notion that maybe the Council was considering taking over the whole reconstruction project now and that they may try to use the attack on camp 5 as justification for doing so.

            The Hunters had initially begun the camps and their reconstruction program without the go ahead from the Council.  Even though the Council was really in no position to do anything to begin its own reconstruction program, quite a few of its members were put off by the Hunters taking the initiative and acting independently on the matter.  To smooth things over, Signas had sought the Council's official support in exchange for the additional resources and freedom the Hunters would need to carry out a planet-wide reconstruction program.  Even though the Council had agreed to not interfere with how the Hunters did things, except in cases of blatant discrimination or gross negligence, they had understandably insisted on being kept informed of the program's progression and of any major incidents involving refugees.

            When Signas had notified them about the status of the camp the 23rd Unit had come across the week before, the Council immediately ordered the Hunters off the site and sent in their own investigation team.  The justification was that since the camp had been close to a Reploid Research Team facility and because that organization received a regular grant from the Council, the investigation should be taken over by a government team.  It was a tenuous claim at best since incidents involving reploids typically fell under Hunter jurisdiction, but it was enough to legally justify the action.

            Now that he had sent in a report of another camp that had been attacked, Signas had known that he would be contacted shortly.  Since the Council had no legitimate grounds to take over the current investigation, Signas was not sure what they would tell him to do.  The fact that one of the more prominent members of the Council had contacted him told Signas that something was definitely afoot.

            "General, I understand that there has been another incident involving a refugee camp . . ." Tanaka began.

            "With all due respect sir, based on the preliminary reports I received from the Hunters on the scene – referring to what happened as an incident trivializes what happened considerably," Signas interjected.

            "Hmm . . . I take it you've already begun an investigation."

            "That is correct councilman.  I will present a full report as soon as we have all the facts.  Hopefully then we will have determined what happened and who was responsible."

            The councilman nodded his head.  "Good, good." – He looked thoughtfully at Signas – "I imagine that you still aren't too thrilled about having last week's investigation taken out of your hands."

            Signas repressed a grimace and tried to decide how to answer the question truthfully without seeming overly indignant or self-righteous.  To deny that he was nonplussed and irritated with the Council's little stunt would be an insult to Tanaka's intelligence.  However it wouldn't be prudent to simply reply yes to the statement nor would it be wise to say nothing at all.

            "Councilman Tanaka," Signas began respectfully, "when the charter for the Maverick Hunters was drawn up, one of the terms was that matters involving acts violence possibly committed by reploids fell under our jurisdiction.  The charter also stated that we were to do joint investigations with local and international authorities should the situation warrant it or if such an investigation were requested.  The incident in the camp involved not only humans, but reploids as well.  As such it is our duty to pursue the matter until it is resolved or the culprit turns out to be human, in which case the appropriate authorities would take over since humans are outside of our jurisdiction.  The fact that the Council chose to prevent us from doing what the Hunters were created to do – what the law created by the Council itself requires of us – creates the impression that you no longer trust us to do our job."

            "Some people would argue that the events of two months ago attest to the Hunter's incompetence in performing their duties," Tanaka countered with a slightly condescending tone.

            Signas kept his expression neutral even though he felt a surge of anger at the apparent arrogance of the statement.  If only it was as easy to see Sigma's schemes in advance as some people felt the Hunters should be able to.  Time and again Sigma had displayed an uncanny knack of hiding in the shadows while pulling other people's strings to achieve his goals.  That was part of why the boldness of Sigma showing himself during his initial attack at the beginning of the Eurasia crisis was something that had caught everyone off guard - he hadn't done something like that since the first uprising over two decades ago.  Combine Sigma's ability to manipulate people with the fact that he could remain hidden for as long as he chose to, gain influence, and amass an army right under the noses of almost every intelligence network in the world, including that of the Hunters, and you had a very dangerous opponent who could launch an attack before you realized what was happening.  Yet every time Sigma showed up, someone always insisted that the Hunters had to have known – or at least should have known – what he was up to in advance and had just done nothing to prevent it.

            The Supreme Commander of the Hunters kept his voice calm as he addressed the councilman once more, "Sigma has never been easy to predict or stop.  You seldom know what his plan is until it's already in motion.  He seized control of Doppler Town despite the fact that it was being watched by almost every government on the planet and its leader had developed an antivirus that could have stopped Sigma for good.  Sigma also somehow convinced the Repliforce to seek independence from humanity in an attempt to use them to accomplish his objectives.  The more recent chaos of the Eurasia Crisis was accomplished without him even employing a legion of Mavericks to set it in motion.  Even in the rare instance warning signs do appear, there is never enough evidence that he is back and up to something to justify a preemptive strike or elevate our alert status.  As a result, we can only react when he makes his move rather than before he's ready to do so.

            "Now as to whether or not the Hunters have been incompetent in performing their duties, I think the fact that Sigma was defeated and that there are still humans living on this planet is proof enough that we have done our job to the best of our ability and without overstepping our bounds."

            "Which is all that we can ask of you," Tanaka said smoothly.  "Believe it or not general, I can sympathize with how you feel about our taking over that investigation.  Although I am not authorized to discuss the results of our team's findings over even a secure channel . . . as a display of good faith, and to maintain our mutually beneficial relationship with the Hunters, I will see to it that a copy of their _official_ report makes it to you.  I hope that will help to smooth things over and that the findings in the report will prove satisfactory."

            Signas blinked in surprise.  "I appreciate the gesture councilman.  I'm certain the results of your team's investigation will prove to be enlightening and will provide the Hunters removed from the investigation with a sense of closure.  Hopefully we can avoid disputes of jurisdiction like that one in the future, possibly by doing joint investigations in such situations."

            "An interesting proposition General Signas – I'll certainly consider bringing up the possibility at the next Council session.  It's been a pleasure speaking to you."

            "Likewise Councilman Tanaka," Signas said as the councilman's image faded from the screen.

            Signas briefly wondered what Tanaka's angle was.  A high ranking member of the Council did not normally contact the Hunter commander over a matter like an attack on a refugee camp; it was a task typically reserved for a junior member of the Council or a designated liaison.  What had surprised Signas most of all was how the councilman had shifted from almost accusing the Hunters of not doing their job to handing over the report concerning the investigation of last week's attack under the guise of an apology.  What had really put Signas on alert was the way Tanaka had emphasized the word 'official'.

            Signas was well aware that sometimes official reports had details omitted from them or could even be outright lies.  He wondered if whether the former or later were the case this time or if he was simply reading too much into it.  The Supreme Commander was curious to see how the Council's investigation stacked up against the initial on scene report from the 23rd Unit.  Given the similarity the 23rd's report had with what X and Zero radioed in from Camp 5, Signas suspected that the two incidents could be connected.  The question was would the Council's investigation support that belief or disprove it.  An even bigger question would be whether the account in the Council's report was the truth or simply a cover story to keep the Hunters in the dark about something.  But if that were the case, why would Tanaka have been the one to contact him and personally guarantee Signas a copy of the report?  It would have been simpler to just send it through a liaison or junior councilmember to avoid piquing unwanted interest.  Something was going on, but what?

            Signas pondered those thoughts as he waited for the teams to report in from Camp 5.

            The 17th Unit rematerialized on the one of the pads in one of the Maverick Hunter headquarters' Embarkation/Debarkation rooms, more commonly called the EmDee rooms.  The room was large and had several teleporter pads in it.  The main pad, located towards the front of the room, was used for any group of Hunters leaving or arriving at the base.  Four larger pads positioned in a semi-circle behind the main pad were used primarily for teleporting any equipment a team of Hunters may need, such as ride armors and landchasers, but could also be used for teleporting Hunters as well.  The emdee rooms also represented the only way to teleport into or out of the Hunter base once the EM field that comprised the base's shield went up.  Since the EM field prevented teleporter signals from being transmitted, the emdee rooms used special equipment to punch holes through the field to allow the signals to get through.  Of course, the only real defense the shield offered was forcing unauthorized teleports to land a short distance outside the base perimeter, but that was enough prevent Mavericks from simply teleporting into the Hunter's command center and attacking.

            Even though the majority of the Maverick Hunters had their own internal teleportation unit and thus did not need the aid of a teleporter pad, it was official policy that all teleporter traffic related to Hunter business be routed through these rooms.  The policy was mainly developed to improve base security since it made it easier to detect unauthorized teleports and catch intruders before they could do any damage as well as monitor outgoing traffic.  Normally the only time exceptions were made was during extreme emergencies, like the colony drop, or when the Hunters completely mobilized their forces and the sheer number of troops made it unfeasible to use the EmDee rooms for anything other than teleporting armor and artillery to the battlefield or evacuating reploids who were unable to teleport by themselves for some reason.

            The Emdee techs welcomed X's unit back as the Hunters wearily stepped off the pad.  They began to file silently out of the room to go to the debriefing area as Zero's squad, the recovery team, and the investigators arrived on three of the other pads in the room.  Unit 0 followed the 17th out of the room to join them for a joint debriefing while the investigators prepared to take the evidence to the lab for analysis and the recovery team prepared to place the bodies of the victims in storage until they could be properly examined by the medical staff.  

            The silence among the members of the two units as they made their way through the base was deafening.  There was none of the normal after mission chatter since nobody felt much like talking after seeing the scene at the camp.  The silence was all the more oppressive because of the emptiness in the halls of the Maverick Hunter headquarters itself.  Before Sigma tried to crash Eurasia into the Earth, the corridors of the base were seldom empty, no matter what time of day it was.  Then up until a month ago, the halls had been swarming with terrified refugees and it had been difficult to maneuver through them.  Once the camps were set up, the Hunters quickly relocated the refugees into them.  Without the refugees, it was easily apparent just how much the Hunter ranks had been thinned since many of the corridors were now typically empty.

            For X and Zero though, the emptiness of the hallways was a reminder of how they had failed when Sigma had used them to trigger the world wide release of the Sigma virus a few months prior.  Being reminded of that did little to improve their moods as their units arrived at the debriefing room and entered it.

            After being dismissed from the debriefing, Tempest flopped onto the couch in the rec room of the 17th's barracks while the other members of the unit dispersed around the room.  She didn't bother to turn on the TV in front of it since there were no stations broadcasting any programs.  There was a selection of DVDs next to the TV that she could watch, but she wasn't in the mood for a movie or for playing a video game on the console hooked up to the TV.

            Even though the mission hadn't been physically demanding, it had been an emotional and mental drain for Tempest.  Her reaction to the massacre still embarrassed her even though she had composed herself by time the unit was ready to return to base.  She just hoped Charger didn't tell X about it, she'd probably get booted out of the unit.  She didn't know X very well, but from what she had seen he seemed rather testy, which didn't seem to fit with the stories she had heard about him during basic training.  Tempest had quickly decided that she didn't want to get on his bad side based on what she had seen.

            _What am I even doing here?_  She thought.  _I wasn't even meant to be a combat reploid.  Am I even ready to make the kinds of decisions a Hunter does?   I'm barely over two months old for crying out loud!_

            Tempest's thoughts drifted back to the day she was activated at the Light Robotics Institute.  She was one of their new 'Zapper' models; reploids designed to deal safely with high voltage equipment, downed power lines, and withstand the massive electrical discharges such things could emit.  The doctors had been eager to test out her abilities, but moments after her activation they quickly forgot about her.  That day Sigma spread the Maverick virus all over the world and the space colony began its descent towards the Earth.

            Amid the swirl of confusion as the scientists prepared to leave, Tempest had been separated from the people who had activated her.  To make matters worse, several of the reploids there went Maverick and what was left of the local Hunter garrison was called in to stop them, turning the institute into a war zone.  Once the Mavericks had been dealt with, everyone finished preparing to leave and Tempest, lost and forgotten by her creators, had nearly been left behind.  One of the Hunters found her and made certain she was evacuated from the building.  She wound up on a transport that took her to a Hunter base where she shared a room with a half dozen refugees from other cities.  Tempest had remained at that base throughout the scare created by the Nightmare as more and more refugees poured in.

            Having been born only recently encountering so many new people was a frightening experience.  The stories they had to tell about their own experiences didn't make things any easier and Tempest had simply remained silent most of the time, uncertain about what to say or do.  She felt isolated from the other refugees since they would sometimes talk about what things were like before the colony disaster - clinging to the memories in hopes of not falling into total despair – while she had no past, no memories of better times.  The world left behind in Eurasia's wake was the only one Tempest had ever known and she had effectively wound up all alone in it.

            As time passed and the refugees started to be relocated, nobody from the Light Institute came for her.  Apparently forgotten once more by the people who created her, Tempest had pondered what to do with her life.  The first few formative weeks of her existence had seen nothing but chaos and she had been able to do little more than stand by and watch.  She had wanted to help, but she hadn't known what to do and just seemed to get in the way of others.  Tempest hated feeling so helpless and had been impressed by how the Hunters had just seemed to know exactly what to do in a given situation.

            She wanted to have that kind of certainty and confidence too.  She didn't want to stand idly by, she wanted to be able to figure out what to do when something happened and then be able to _act_.  She wanted to be able to help people.  Based on her own experience and the some of the stories she heard from refugees, helping others seemed to be what the Hunters did.

            Tempest had signed up then and there, not quite realizing that there was more to being a Hunter than helping people.  After she completed the accelerated basic training course, which was run by a fairly brutal instructor, she had been assigned to Unit 17.  She had been shocked to learn that she had been allowed into the unit reserved for the Hunter's elite fighters.  Somebody had obviously been impressed by her abilities.  The shock quickly turned into excitement and an unfamiliar sense of pride manifested itself.  She had never been so happy or had such a feeling of accomplishment before.

            Tempest had been determined to make a good impression on the members of her new unit.  She made sure to follow every regulation, keep her armor well maintained, show proper respect to superior officers, and in general be a model Hunter.  She had even adopted a more cheerful, outgoing persona in an attempt to make friends with the other members of her unit.  She had some limited success in that regard; for the most part the new attitude seemed to slightly annoy a few of the 17th's members.

            Then on her first mission as a member of one of the foremost Hunter units, she had cried after seeing the slaughtered bodies of the refugees.  Even though people had died during the fighting at the LRI, she hadn't seen a dead body before.  Even after hearing the many horror stories during her time with the refugees, it was still beyond her ability to understand why someone could do such a thing to another person.  She had known coming out of basic that people could die during a mission, but the idea hadn't seemed real to her until arriving at that camp.

            "Hey kid, what's with the long face?" a voice asked with genuine concern.

            Startled out of her thoughts, Tempest sat up and saw X's second in command, Slag, sitting on the arm of the couch on the opposite end from her.  His armor was grey and blue and had a round dark red gem in the middle of the breastplate with four black spikes painted around it, making the gem resemble the compass rose of a map.  A v-shaped crest was emblazoned on his helmet and around his waist was a belt with compartments on it for holding small shaped charges and grenades.

            "Nothing," Tempest told him.  _Nothing I feel like talking about anyways_.

            "Let me guess, the mission wasn't quite what you were expecting huh?" said Slag.  "I have to admit that this probably wouldn't be the best first mission for somebody who just joined, but they're not all going to be like this–"

            "Some will be worse," a morose male voice interjected from behind Tempest.

            "Gunner, you shouldn't sneak up on people like," Slag said, directing the comment towards a reploid wearing recon armor.  Recon armor resembled normal combat armor, except that it was lighter weight, designed for stealth, and offered slightly less protection.  Recon armor also lacked the shoulder guards commonly found on most reploid body armor.  Instead it had a plate of armor covering the upper arm, but not the shoulder joint.  Gunner's recon armor was painted in a desert camouflage scheme that allowed him to blend in with the terrain of the wastelands created by debris from the colony, though he could easily get the color changed to match any other environment the 17th might possibly visit.

            Gunner stood there, holding a sniper rifle in his right hand and a cleaning kit tucked under his left arm, ignoring Slag's comment.  The glum, distant expression on his face made him seem more like a normal robot than a reploid and gave something of an ominous air.

            Gunner looked at Tempest and began speaking again.  "Tempest, you should be thankful that this was one of the better missions.  Not all of them turn out so well."

            Tempest looked at the reploid in horror.  "How can you say this mission turned out well?!  All those people were killed!"

            "Any mission where everyone in your team comes back alive is a good one," Gunner rebutted in an icy tone.  "What happened to the refugees is regrettable, but it was beyond our power to do anything about it.  So there's no reason to get worked up over what you can't control or a situation you weren't responsible for."

            Tempest looked at him lividly.  How could somebody say something like that so coldly?  There was nothing in his voice to indicate he felt any sympathy or sorrow over the fate of the refugees.

            "Gee Gunner, nice pep talk.  Are you trying to upset her?" Slag muttered sarcastically.

            "I'm just telling her the truth of the matter," Gunner replied walking over to one of the tables in the rec room and laying the cleaning kit on it.

            Slag turned back to Tempest and said, "Listen kid . . . what Gunner said is good advice, but I don't think that what he's talking about is the case here."

            _Charger must have told him what happened!  _Tempest thought angrily.  _Why else would Slag say that?  I wonder who else he told . . . everyone's going to think I'm some kind of crybaby now.  Charger is so dead!_

            Slag noticed Tempest's darkening expression.  "Let me guess, something embarrassing happened during the mission?  Don't worry; it happens to everyone, even veterans.  Ask Charger about what happened at the power plant Squid Adler was guarding sometime if you don't believe me."

            "Huh?" Tempest replied.  She'd expected to get a dressing down for what happened, so Slag's attempt to make her feel better was a surprise.

            "I'd tell you what happened . . . but it's more fun watching him tell the story," Slag chuckled.  "The missions will get rougher as time goes on.  You'll have days that make this one seem like a cake walk and others where things are so boring you'll feel like banging your head on something, that was true before Siggy's latest stunt and its true even in these harsher times.  You'll see things that will frighten and terrify you, that's nothing to be ashamed of either, and you aren't always going to be happy with how you react when encountering those situations . . . but you'll get better at handling them as time progresses.  It won't make it any easier to see something like what happened at the camp, but you'll be able to deal with it better . . . even if it means putting your feelings aside until after the mission is over.  Of course if you ever need anybody to talk to, you should always feel free to talk to anyone of us, even X.  Like it or not you're a part of the team and that means we're there for you if you need us."

            Slag got up off the arm of the couch as Tempest mulled over what he said.  She was still mad at Charger for blabbing to him about what happened, how else could Slag have known what was bothering her.  However the little speech he had given her, minus Gunner's interruption, had at least reassured her that nobody was going to think less of her or kick her out of the unit because of her behavior at the camp.  But it didn't make what happened less embarrassing since now more people than just Charger knew.

            "Hey kid, I'm going to play a game of pool with Sera.  You want to join us?"  Slag asked unexpectedly.

            "Isn't it a two-player game?"

            "Mostly, except for variations like cutthroat.  If you like you could always play winner, or we could drag Charger away from whatever he's doing and we could play teams."

            "I . . . don't know how to play," Tempest admitted sheepishly.

            "We can't have that now, can we?  Com' on, it's not that hard to learn.  But you don't have to play if you really don't want to," the 17th's second in command said walking towards the room's pool table.  Tempest hesitated a moment before getting up off the couch and deciding to take Slag up on the invitation.

            Zero stood outside the simulator room debating on whether or not to barge in there or just wait for its occupant to finish his training program and come out.

            After the debriefing, he had tried to confront X about his recent behavior only to have the second Blue Bomber brush him off and disappear.  Zero was getting concerned about how X was acting.  His friend had become moody, short tempered, and even a little withdrawn at times.  Zero was still shocked that X had allowed his temper to get the better of him back in the camp, X rarely allowed something like that to occur during a mission.

            He'd seen X behave this way before, after some of the nastier Maverick uprisings, but he usually was back to his normal self within a week, two tops.  The fact that he'd been acting this way for close to a month now was disconcerting.  Something was definitely bothering X and Zero didn't have a clue what it was.  

            Zero wondered if X's attitude had something to do with Gate's uprising.  Even though X had returned from the battle at Gate's lab determined to restore the Earth to its former state, something seemed about him seemed a little off.  Rather than the typical period of somewhat ill-tempered melancholy X seemed to go through at such times, the Blue Bomber became pensive and seemed to be at odds with himself.  What little depression he did exhibit was mostly in regards to the fact he had promised Alia that he'd bring Gate back alive and had failed to do so.

            Even though X had recovered Gate's body, Alia and Lifesavor had been unable to resuscitate him.  The death of her colleague and friend had hit Alia hard.  Her feelings of guilt about her role in what the RRT had done to him only compounded her grief.  For a brief period of time, Alia's mood darkened and she began to withdraw from the people around her.  She spurned the condolences offered by her coworkers – not believing they could honestly understand what she was going through since they knew nothing of her past actions or her friendship with Gate – and was determined to deal with the grief by herself.  

            Zero had felt a great deal of sympathy for her.  Her behavior had reminded him of how he had been after Iris had perished.  Alia had not only been forced to recall painful memories of the past that she had tried to put behind her, but she had also been forced to watch as two people who were important to her fight each other.  Given the close friendship Alia had with Gate, was it any wonder his demise would hit her so hard, even after all the years that had passed?

            Zero recalled how awful X had felt seeing her hurting like that.  For a while X avoided her, feeling he was to blame for the pain she was experiencing.  Eventually X went and talked to Alia.  Zero didn't know what went on during that conversation, but it seemed to help both of them.  Alia was still in mourning, but she was more cordial towards people and began to socialize again, while X appeared to have dealt with whatever had been bothering him.

            Now X seemed to be dealing with some new personal demon and seemed to be angry about something most of the time.  Zero had seen X angry before and just outright furious on a few occasions, but he'd never witnessed the kind of seething anger X had shown recently.  Zero guessed that X was for the most part keeping the feeling in check, but it was beginning to get harder for him to do.

            What worried Zero the most was that eventually Signas would notice X's behavior – if he hadn't already – and decide to do something about it.  Zero knew that Signas would try to do something about it.  X was one of the four people that Signas had come to rely on for advice and support – the other three being Alia, Douglas, and Zero himself – especially in times of crisis.  A sick feeling overtook Zero.  If X had exploded over his suggestion about returning to base early, how would X react if Signas relieved him and tried to force him to take some leave?  Would X do something stupid and jeopardize his career as a Hunter?  Would Signas unknowingly provoke a violent outburst from X?

            Zero finally decided to enter the simulator and punched an override code into the panel by the door.  The heavy steel doors slid open as a computerized voice warned Zero that he was intruding upon an active combat simulation.  Zero ignored the warning and stepped through the walkway into what seemed to be the roof of an abandoned parking garage.  It was nighttime and the lights of the surrounding city sparkled.  A full moon hung in the sky above along with the few stars whose light was not drowned out by that of the city and the night wind blew gently.

            Suddenly a geyser of flame erupted from the ground a foot away from Zero, catching him off guard.  A figure rode the column of fire up from the level below, flying up into the air and then falling onto his back five feet from the newly made hole in the garage roof.  Zero quickly recognized the fallen figure's blue armor as another person made a powerful leap up through the hole, soaring above both X and Zero.  Wisps of flame escaped from the either side of the creature's mouth, illuminating its reptilian visage and making it look like some kind of nightmarish demon as fire gathered around its hands and feet.

            Zero instantly recognized one of the most infamous traitors in the history of the Hunters, _Magma Dragoon_.  

            Zero's hand instinctively began to reach for his Z-saber, but he stopped himself.  This was just a simulation; X was in no real danger.  That realization did little to keep him from wanting to rush to his friend's aid.  X had defeated Magma Dragoon during the Repliforce War so there was little chance that he'd lose to a simulation of the renegade Hunter.  But Zero still remembered how damaged X had been after that fight.  X had been covered in burns, exhausted, and his armor had been charred and cracked – there had even been what looked like teeth marks on his left shoulder.  X had been repaired by the next day and went back to fighting the remaining Repliforce officers, but he hadn't been able to get back up to full strength until right before the assault on the spaceport.

            There was no way that X could get that hurt in the simulator room though.    Dragoon's power had obviously been cranked up some for this particular fight, but X still wasn't in danger of being seriously injured.

            _Unless he shut off the safeties,_ Zero thought grimly.  _Even I'm not crazy enough to try that!  No, X wouldn't do something like that . . . but still, I should be ready step in if things get out of hand, but not before then.  _

            Magma Dragoon began his descent in the form of a flying kick.  His outstretched foot turned into a blazing whirl of flame as he aimed for X's head.  The massive reploid quickly built up speed as he prepared to use X for a landing pad.

            Right before Dragoon could connect with his attack, X rolled out of the way and came up in a crouching position as Dragoon's clawed foot crashed through the roof.  Dragoon's momentum carried him downward through the roof, enlarging the hole created by his foot, to the level below.  X got to his feet and started to follow Dragoon as pillar of fire blossomed out of the hole.  X stood his ground until the spire of flame abated and Dragoon reemerged from the lower level in another leap.  This one took him up and over X, letting him land behind the Hunter.

            X spun around, his right arm morphing into his X-buster, and unleashed a large green burst of plasma at his opponent.  After firing the shot, X began to charge towards his opponent.  Dragoon edged his left foot over slightly before pivoting on it to narrowly avoid the destructive projectile and cupped his hands near his right side.  A ball of flame began to form between the clawed appendages.  Watching from a distance, Zero saw the move and knew what the simulation of Dragoon was about to do.

            _Haduken!!_ roared the simulation brought its cupped hands forward, opening them up to unleash a torrent of fire.  X skidded to a halt and dropped to the ground, almost taking a direct hit from the assault.

            As X felt the heat from the attack on his back, he grinned and unleashed another fully charged shot from his X-buster.  Despite its size, the shot slid easily underneath the stream of fire of the haduken and hit Dragoon's right foot.  The shot seemed to splash and flow over the foot like water.  Like lasers, plasma was hot enough to burn through or melt most types of armor.  Plasma also had the advantage of not entirely dissipating after hitting its target.  That meant that for several seconds trace amounts of plasma would remain on an opponent's armor, chewing away at it and any exposed circuitry.  Unlike lasers, plasma also had mass.  This was bad for Dragoon since the pose he assumed while executing a haduken was meant to brace his body against the recoil of the attack, which meant the simulation was unable to maneuver while performing the move. This meant the force of the shot's impact would make Dragoon break off his attack to try and keep his balance.  It was either that or risk having his own attack fling him to the ground.

            X had expected the simulation to use the favorite attack of the former member of the 14th melee unit and then taken advantage of the moment of vulnerability it had offered.  X got back to his feet and unleashed a volley of uncharged buster rounds at Dragoon as he resumed his charge.  The simulation stumbled back, snarling in pain, as it tried to shift its weight off of its mangled foot, the exposed circuits sparking as it did so.

            Dragoon suddenly dropped towards the ground in crouch, opening his mouth wide and letting smoke and fire spill out from it.  Two fins on his back suddenly sprang up as Dragoon placed his hands on the ground and dug their talons into the cement to brace himself for his next assault.  A rumbling roar emerged from Dragoon's throat as a raging inferno burst from his mouth.  The wave of fire was bigger than X was and moved so fast the azure Hunter had to use his dash thrusters to safely sidestep the attack.  X barely got a chance to collect himself before a second wave of fire engulfed him and knocked him to the ground.

            Dragoon stood up slowly, favoring his injured foot, and prepared to press his momentary advantage.  The simulation's second volley had been slightly weaker than the first, allowing it to fire again as soon as X finished dodging the first attack.  With a sound that was mixture of both roar and battle cry, the Dragoon simulation leapt into the air once more.  With the damaged foot it couldn't leap as high as before, but it didn't need to.  Dragoon cupped his hands as he prepared one last haduken to finish X off.

            Meanwhile X had stumbled to his feet and saw Dragoon's maneuver.  He activated his dash thrusters and sped away as the Dragoon fired.  The force of the haduken propelled Dragoon higher into the air as the attack hit where X had been and its flames began to spread out across the parking garage roof for several yards, creating a lake of fire.

            Dragoon landed hard from his jump, his bad foot giving out from under him.  He tried to regain a fighting stance as he saw X dash towards him and jump.  X lashed out with his foot, nailing the side of Dragoon's head with a punishing blow.  X landed on the ground and began to punch Dragoon rapidly in the stomach, leaving dents in the armor of his opponent and forcing him back.  Dragoon managed to grab one of X's arms and used a judo throw to toss X over his shoulder.

            X hit the ground and rolled onto his feet.  He turned to face Dragoon.  The dragon based reploid was crouching once more on the ground and the two fins on his back were raised once more.  X unclipped the saber hanging from his side and clutched it in his left hand.

            Dragoon fired a torrent of flame and X jumped up above it.  X activated his dash system and performed an air-dash towards Dragoon.  Dragoon saw this and cut off the attack.  He tried to stand up, only to stumble back down into his crouch.

            The Blue Bomber activated the green blade of his saber and swung it downwards as his momentum died, causing him to fall to the ground.  The emerald blade cleaved through Dragoon's head, throat, and chest.  As X's feet touched the ground, he leaped back a small distance as Dragoon's body collapsed on the ground and dissolved into billions of pixels.  The night sky, city, and parking garage also dissolved, leaving X and Zero alone in an empty room with white walls and a single door leading out.

            X was feeling wiped out from the simulated battle and his exhaustion manifested itself as he stood there panting.  He turned to face Zero and saw his friend's stern expression.

            "Having fun?" Zero asked with a hint of disapproval.

            X shook his head.  "Just trying to get my mind off of something."

            Zero crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow questioningly at X.  "By fighting?  That doesn't sound like you X."

            "Well, you always say that when something bothers you, a tough simulator session makes you feel better.  Didn't work for me though, it just made me tired."

            "Which brings up an important point – just how high did you set Dragoon's power?  Because I don't remember him being that powerful and you're stronger than you were then, so you shouldn't have had that much trouble dealing with a simulation of him," Zero said crossly.

            "I had the computer adjust his power to be about three times what it was back when he betrayed us and crashed Sky Lagoon into the city below it," X said, his tone becoming bitter and angry at the memory of the incident that had sparked the Repliforce War.  "Don't look at me like that Zero, I left the safeties on.  I may be a little crazy, but I'm not stupid."

            "That's a matter of opinion," scoffed Zero.  "What were you thinking X?  With the simulation at that high of a power, you could have been seriously hurt before the safeties kicked in!  Don't give me any crap about trying to get your mind off of what happened at the camp today either!  I know you better than that.  When something like that happens, yeah, you get a little difficult to put up with for a while.  But for you to start trying what I do to relieve anger and stress, then there is something really bugging you.  I don't think this has anything to do with the slaughter of the refugees either, at least not entirely.  You haven't been behaving normally lately and I'm starting to get concerned."

            X rubbed his temples and sighed.  He was tired from the fight with the simulation and didn't want to deal with Zero being on his case right now.  What was Zero's problem anyways?  The lack of trust Zero had shown in X at the camp was bad enough, but now he was harping about how X chose to deal with his feelings about the mess at camp 5.  

            Maybe it was true that the fate of the refugees wasn't the only thing that was bothering him.  There was the devastated condition of the planet to be concerned about, not to mention there were still quite a few Mavericks left over from the Eurasia crisis.  The fact that the Hunters simply lacked the manpower to guarantee the safety of the refugees was another cause for concern and X didn't even want to think about the difficulties in handling the logistics for a project like rebuilding the Earth.  There was also the fact that with Alia's disclosure about her past, X wasn't sure if the Hunters could trust the Reploid Research Team, one of the groups likely to be a key player in the later stages of the reconstruction program.  There were also the rumors about groups of vigilantes and mercenaries harassing the refugee camps.  The rumors were yet to be confirmed and the refugees seemed reluctant to comment about them – much to the frustration of the Hunters investigating the veracity of the reports.  Then there was that creepy sensation he got from looking at the refugees and the conviction that something awful had been done to them, something worse than just being killed . . .

            _With all of that to worry about, is it any wonder I might be a little stressed out?  So what if I tried handling it differently from normal?  I just don't feel like discussing it with anyone,_ thought X.  _Even if I did, it wouldn't change anything – nothing I do lately seems to make any difference.   I doubt Zero would understand anyhow._

            X knew that Zero was not planning on letting him leave the room until he got some answers.  Zero felt that confrontation was the best way to deal with problems, which explained why he wasn't always tactful about some things.  With a sigh of resignation, X decided to try and placate Zero somehow so he could go back to his room and get some rest.

            "Listen Zero, if this has to do with my blowing up at you earlier, I'm sorry.  There's really nothing to be worried about . . . I've got it all under control."

            "Really?" the crimson warrior responded incredulously.

            "Yes, really," X said brusquely.  He could feel himself growing angry at Zero.  Why couldn't Zero just drop it?  So what if he was a little short tempered?  Who was Zero to speak anyway?  Despite his normally calm, casual demeanor, Zero had a temper that had gotten him into trouble more than once.  Even if X knew what was bothering him, why should he tell Zero about it?  It wasn't like Zero always confided in him.  Zero had kept his reaction to the Sigma virus a secret; X had to find out about it from Lifesavor and Signas.  Zero had been in a dangerous situation where he probably needed help and he hadn't trusted his best friend enough to ask for it.

            The problem was suddenly and startlingly clear to X.  Zero didn't trust him.  It was so obvious now.  Zero hadn't trusted him during the Eurasia crisis, he had obviously reappeared during the Nightmare because he didn't trust X to handle it on his own, and Zero hadn't felt that X was up to completing his mission at the camp today.  X clenched his fists as his ire rose.

            His left hand was still grasping his saber and X looked at it, feeling some of his anger draining away.  This was the saber Alia had given him when he woke up in the infirmary after Sigma tried to kill him; it had once belonged to Zero.  Zero had toiled on the blade for years, customizing it into a truly unique and powerful weapon.  He had insisted that X keep it after he returned.  Zero had entrusted it to him, saying that he was sure X would find it useful someday.

            Whatever Zero's reason's for not telling X about his problem during the Colony drop or about some of the things that had been bothering him in the wake of the fourth uprising, it wasn't because Zero didn't trust him.  A pang of guilt for thinking otherwise stabbed X in the chest.

            "Zero, I really am sorry about what happened today," X said at last.  "I don't know what's bothering me either, it doesn't seem to be any single thing either . . ."

            Zero relaxed upon hearing X's mild tone.  This was a good sign, hopefully.  "Well in that case X, I guess the only thing to do is take some time out to figure out what has been getting to you then."

            "I don't know if that's possible . . . this just isn't the kind of life I thought I'd be leading . . . When I joined the Hunters, it was only to stop Sigma.  I never thought of anything beyond that or what the price of accomplishing that goal would be.  After he went down the second time . . . I don't even know why I stayed in the Hunters after that."

            "X, what are you saying?"

            X looked solemnly at Zero and asked "What exactly have we actually accomplished as Hunters Zero?"

            Zero was stunned into silence.  He'd never heard X say anything like that before.  X would beat himself up wondering how he could have done something differently to save more lives or avoid a battle, but Zero had never heard him question his achievements as a Hunter.  X had just seemed to always accept that the Hunters were doing the right thing and he hadn't ever suggested that the Hunter's goals weren't worthwhile or pointless.

            When Zero finally found his voice he responded, "X, we've accomplished a whole damn lot!  If it weren't for us Sigma would have set himself up as a dictator and humanity 'd be long gone!"

            "So instead of taking them out in one clean sweep, old baldy just sets up plans to take them out piecemeal.  Face it, no matter what we did Eurasia was going to kill a lot of people and before that the Repliforce war killed a fair amount of humans.  Now there are humans on the surface who can't get into the warrens and have been left for dead in Maverick infested wastelands by everyone who did make it to those shelters.  On top of that, Gate was well on his way to wiping out the surviving reploids and humans on the surface not too long ago."

            "We stopped him though.  That gave everyone on the surface a second chance."

            "A second chance at what Zero!?" X rebutted.  "Do you think the survivors who aren't living in a refugee camp are any better off than they were before Gate showed up?  Most of the reploids who survived are scared of us because they still remember what happened to the Repliforce.  Some of the other refugees don't feel like they can trust us much since a frelling space colony nearly flattened the planet!  We also haven't given them much reason to have faith in us now.  I mean we couldn't even protect the people at Camp 5!"

            "X, we're doing the best we can.  We can't do anything for the survivors who don't relocate to a refugee camp, there's just too many still out there for us to even try.  If they choose not to go to one, that's their choice – we can't force them to accept our help anyways."

            "I know that Zero!" X snapped.  "But it doesn't mean that we should act like they don't even exist!  These people have already been abandoned by everyone else; we shouldn't just give up on them as well.  It's our duty to protect them, a duty we haven't been able to fulfill . . ."

            "I know it sounds cold, but we should only worry about the people we can help.  Unless we can actually do something for the people not in the camps, worrying about them won't accomplish anything.  Once the reconstruction project kicks into full gear, then we should be able to help them," argued Zero.

            "And if they still don't accept our help?" X asked deadpan.  Zero remained silent, not making eye contact with X.  That was all X needed for an answer.

            The silence between them began to linger and grow uncomfortable.  Zero wasn't sure how to respond to X's question.  The truth was that once the political leaders came out of the Warrens, the people on the surface would have no choice but to follow them so long as the Hunters took orders from the government.  Even if the remaining humans and reploids resisted their return to power, some of the political leaders wouldn't hesitate to sic the Hunters on them.  If the Hunters refused to obey, the government couldn't enforce its will and the people who had been abandoned by them might rebel.  Naturally the Hunters would get caught in the middle of something like that.

            Regrettably, it was in the best interests of the Hunter's plan to revitalize the planet to have a stable government to help organize things.  That meant whether the refugees liked it or not, the Council and other world governments would eventually emerge from the shelters to take back their positions of power.  Then they would claim the fruits of the labor of the Hunters and refugees for themselves.

            "Zero, why did you join the Hunters?" X asked suddenly.

            The question caught Zero off guard.  It was something he had never thought about.  When Dr. Cain had repaired and reactivated him, he had simply been told that he was to be a Maverick Hunter.  Zero had simply accepted the decree without questioning it or even stopping to think about whether it was what he wanted or not.

            Zero had never had cause to question it before.  Being a Hunter had seemed to come naturally to him.  Tracking down an opponent, engaging them in combat, showing no mercy to his foes, it had all come so easily to him.  It had just felt right.  Even when Sigma went Maverick Zero didn't think twice before labeling him as an opponent or even about why Sigma would suddenly go against the principles he had upheld his whole life.  Even when Iris had died, Zero had only questioned what he was fighting for, never why he chose to fight in the first place.

            In fact he had always eagerly anticipated every battle that lay just upon the horizon.  Even when appearing to enjoy the peace he helped create, Zero was always on the look out for the next potential conflict.  It was like he was driven on some level to always be prepared for battle, to always keep an eye out for anyone who might provide him a decent challenge, whether they be friend or foe.

            To his own horror, Zero had sometimes caught himself thinking about how he would take down X if they ever fought for real, after all X was one of the few androids in existence that could match him in power and ability.  What had truly frightened Zero was that during his battle with X after the Eurasia colony was destroyed, a part of him had desired to massacre his best friend.  A quite whisper that urged him to rend and destroy, to revel in ecstasy over X's mutilated corpse.  During the fight the whisper became a pounding within his head, a compulsion so deeply rooted that it was difficult to block out until he finally gave in and came at X with everything he had.  A part of Zero had relished that fight, enjoyed it more than any other battle he had fought before.  He was just thankful that the battle had ended in a draw.  Iris's death had devastated him more than he would have thought possible.  He didn't want to think what being responsible for killing X would have done to him.

            In the end, he had joined the Hunters because he was told to.  Even if he had come to believe in some of the organization's ideals, it didn't change the fact that initially it hadn't mattered to him.  Only being able to fight had meant anything at all.

            "Personal reasons," Zero finally said.

            "More personal than stopping a psychotic killer you helped to create?" X asked bitterly.

            _If only you knew the half of it X_, Zero thought to himself.  He was one of the few people who knew that X had helped Dr. Cain design and build Sigma, the reploid who was supposed to surpass X in every category.  However, nobody but Zero and Sigma knew that it was the virus Zero himself had carried that had turned the once noble Hunter into a mass murderer.

            "Have you heard anything from Alia lately?" Zero said, changing the subject.

            "No, Signas has kept her pretty busy going from the various warrens and Hunter bases trying to organize labor and supply lines for the reconstruction project," X replied, "Once she's through with that I think Signas is going to have her split her time between her spotter duties and continuing to help manage the resources allocated for reconstruction.  Samantha's taken over as our spotter while Alia is away.  She's not doing a bad job either."

            "You miss her, don't you?"

            "Of course I do, she's my friend."

            Normally Zero would tease X a little by asking if that was the only reason he missed the blue eyed spotter.  It was usually fun to do since X got pretty defensive and a little embarrassed.  It was more fun when he could tease both X and Alia at the same time though since their composure would slip quite a bit as they denied the insinuation.  Zero supposed that the reason ribbing them like that was so enjoyable was that because they were normally just such reserved, level-headed individuals, that it was unusual to see them get flustered like that.  Then there was the fact they didn't seem to be certain about the exact nature of their relationship themselves, which made teasing them about it almost too easy.

            But given X's current attitude, Zero didn't think it would be such a good idea, even if changing the subject to Alia had seemed to mellow the Hunter a little.

            Zero sighed and then spoke a in a calm voice, "X, I really am worried about how you've been acting lately.  Maybe you should think about taking some time off until you can sort it all out."

            "Take time off?" X said disbelievingly.  "Zero, I really don't think we can afford to spare any Hunters right now.  Don't worry about me, I'll handle this . . . I always do."  With that X began to walk past Zero and towards the door of the simulator room.

            As X walked by Zero spoke.  "You'd better do it soon then.  I think it's beginning to affect your judgment; that could needlessly put a lot of people in danger X."

            X continued onward, not even acknowledging Zero's comment, and exited the room.  Zero remained where he stood for a moment longer before leaving as well, hoping that X was right about there being no need to worry about him.

**************************************

There it is, the end of chapter 2.  This was a long one!

I hope you enjoyed it, please review!


	4. Chapter 3

AN: Thank you for your patience, here's chapter 3. Oh yeah, I don't own any characters except the ones I made up.

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**Chapter 3**

They were close now, he could feel it. The strange compulsion that had drawn him to this place was intensifying as he closed the distance between him and the reploids he had sensed earlier.

He sped across the wasteland, passing a few stubborn, nearly leafless shrubs that somehow refused to die despite the harsh conditions every now and then. Dark clouds occasionally blocked out the moon and stars shining in the night sky, briefly casting the landscape in shades of darkness. The rushing wind filled his audio sensors, eliciting a sensation of incredible speed that made the distances he had traveled thus far not appear as vast as they truly were.

XT-203 ascended to the top of a tall, gently sloping hill that was sprinkled with patches of dead grass and came to a halt as he caught sight of a small band of reploids trudging through the wasteland in the distance. As he began to observe them, it only took the prototype a moment to realize that the reploids' were heading right towards him. From his vantage point on the hill, he could see that there were only three of them; however he could sense that there were more reploids approaching his position from the same direction, they were just trailing a short distance behind the ones he now saw.

There was something unusual about these reploids though, they felt different from the reploids he had detected arriving at the place where he'd awoken. The prototype couldn't understand why he found this difference so intriguing. The impulse that had driven him to seek these reploids out had been more instinctive than anything else. Now that he had found them, a new instinct kicked in. One that cautioned XT-203 to hide himself from view and not to do anything might draw attention.

He glanced around with an urgency bordering on desperation, looking for someplace to take cover. Failing to see anything nearby that could be used to conceal himself, XT-203 lay down on the top of the hill and began observing the reploids heading towards him.

The three reploids were approaching at a steady pace in a delta formation, weapons at the ready, but gave no sign of having noticed him – in fact they seemed to be absorbed in a discussion amongst themselves. The lead reploid, who was carrying a large rifle with a cumbersome looking power pack, would turn his head around occasionally to say something in an irritable manner to the two trailing behind him. In turn one or both of the other reploids seemed to respond with comments that seemed to annoy their point man.

As the group of reploids continued to bear down on his location, XT-203 began to make out a strange, purple aura around each of the reploids. Each aura swirled hazily about a reploid and pulsed as though it were alive. The sight of the auras caused XT-203's body to tense up and a strange feeling of anxiety welled up within him.

Why did they have such a strange glow around them? Was that even normal? There was something not right about them . . . what were they?

_Mavericks_, the unexpected thought popped into his mind. His anxiety began to vanish and give way to a powerful feeling of inexplicable loathing for the three reploids. Their mere existence enraged him. They were a blight upon the world, weeds to be gathered and burned. Yet here they were, brazenly moving about in the open as though they had nothing to fear. They needed to be put in their place.

_Mavericks,_ the thought repeated itself once more, inflaming the hatred that was now coursing through the prototype. His mind began to race, trying to determine what would be the best way to deal with these beings. A strong desire to simply get up and charge down the hill at the Mavericks began to build up within XT-203. He resisted it however – the Mavericks were still over a hundred feet away and attacking now would only give away his position, allowing the Mavericks to open fire on him before he ever got close enough to strike.

The Mavericks were getting closer, they were now only fifty feet from the foot of the hill and they still didn't seem to be aware of him. The prototype's urge to attack increased with every step they took towards him. It was getting harder to resist the impulse and wait for them to get closer before he made his move.

_Infect . . . Destroy . . . Delete . . ._ a strangely familiar voice whispered quietly. The softly spoken words caused XT-203 to forget all about the approaching reploids. The prototype looked around uncertainly as he tried to ascertain who had just spoken to him, but there was nobody else around except for the Mavericks. He heard the voice again, louder this time. _Infect . . . Destroy . . . Delete . . ._

The prototype continued to scan the area around him uneasily and just like before, there was nobody close enough to be speaking to him. Yet he was certain that he had just heard somebody. What confused XT-203 was that even though he had never heard the voice before in his life, he recognized it. He felt a yearning from deep within himself to do as the voice commanded him. He wanted to please the owner of that voice; XT-203 wanted to make him proud and to hear that pride reflected in the voice. 

The prototype heard the voice speaking to him again; it kept repeating the same words over and over. As the voice's repetition of the words became more frequent, they changed from a whispered suggestion to something more like an order. No matter where he looked or how intently he listened, the voice appeared to lack a point of origin. It seemed to be coming from everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

_Infect, destroy, delete!_ the voice commanded him. The words continued to repeat, becoming a kind of chant. An urgent need to do as the voice commanded began to form, driving out all other concerns from the prototype's mind.

XT-203's hatred towards the Mavericks intensified. The only thing he could think about was killing them, nothing else mattered to him anymore. He wanted to kill them for having that purple aura; he wanted to slay them because that voice demanded it of him. The reason didn't truly matter to him, he just wanted them dead. XT-203 didn't fully comprehend what the voice had meant by infect or delete, but he certainly understood the meaning of destroy.

The prototype, no longer concerned about stealth or strategy, stood up and boldly charged towards the group of Mavericks. A tingling sensation in the back of his hands preceded the activation of the beam sabers built into them. The brilliant gold blades sprang forth as he ran; the light they cast caught the attention of his targets, alerting them to his presence and intentions.

The trio of Mavericks didn't react immediately and stood still for a second or two watching XT-203 come at them – stunned either by the prototype's sudden appearance or by the combination of bravado and stupidity it took for one person to charge three armed soldiers head on. Finally, the Maverick with the large rifle raised his weapon, took aim, and fired.

Suddenly XT-203 felt himself flying backwards and a searing pain in his abdomen. The force of the attack flung him into the hillside, imbedding his body an inch into its slope. The night sky that now filled his vision began to slip out of focus as waves of pain unlike anything the prototype had ever experienced radiated throughout his body, threatening to overwhelm him. The pain became all he could focus on; it even momentarily blotted out his hatred towards the Mavericks.

The mouth of XT-203's fleshless face opened – making it look like a skull whose jaw was agape with laughter or shock – and an unearthly howl of agony escaped from it. The prototype heard the cry, but was too focused on the pain he felt to realize he was its source. While the bone-chilling cry would have startled most other people or make them take pause, it only seemed to encourage the Mavericks to begin advancing on their fallen foe. 

_Infect, destroy, delete! Infect, destroy, delete!_ the voice shouted, breaking through the pain and urging XT-203 on. The grip the agonizing pain held over him began to slip as the voice helped the prototype to focus his attention back on the beings he wanted to kill, the ones responsible for inflicting this pain on him. The animosity he felt towards the Mavericks welled up once more. The pain was irrelevant, he had to continue his assault – destroying the Mavericks and pleasing the voice, those were the only things he should be concerned about.

With a determination borne of single-mindedness, XT-203 tried to get up back up. He managed to push himself into a sitting position – aggravating his injury and eliciting new surges of pain throughout his upper body – but no matter how hard he tried, his legs wouldn't move. The prototype looked downward to determine why his legs refused to obey him and saw not only the reason, but the source of his discomfort as well. 

The round that had hit the prototype had left a hole in the middle of his stomach big enough for him to stick his fist through. A reddish-black fluid was spilling out of the wound and dangling, sparking wires were visible within the injury itself.

A series of green, transparent words accompanied by flashing, multied indicators and diagrams popped into existence. They hovered before his eyes for a moment before quickly winking out of existence. A part of XT-203, the part that had recognized the Mavericks for what they were, understood what all of the displays had meant. They had appeared to tell him that he was hurt very badly (as though he really needed them to figure that out). Abruptly, the pain he felt from the injury began to vanish and was replaced by a feeling of numbness. An overwhelming feeling of tiredness began to spread through his body as well. His vision began to swim as darkness gathered at its edges. XT-203's strength gave out and he found himself staring up at the night sky as a patch of clouds began to obscure it from view. That was the last thing the prototype reploid saw before his optics shut down. The last sensation he felt was something wiggling around in his stomach region and accompanied by an odd tightening feeling in the same area.

There was nothing but dark and quiet surrounding him. It was a void that seemed to be limitless, stretching on forever. A voice called out to him from the depths of the darkness: _Infect, destroy, delete_. A hint of disappointment tainted the words; disappointment over his weakness; disappointment over his inability to do what was commanded of him. The tone of the voice incensed the seemingly inbuilt hatred he had for the Mavericks. The voice echoed through the void and drove all other thoughts from his mind except for the thought of destroying his enemies . . .

The blue glow of XT-203's eye sockets reignited and the first thing he saw was a startled Maverick standing over him.

"What the –!" was all the Maverick could choke out as he started to back away from the fallen reploid. XT-203 ignited his beam sabers and brought his left arm up in a swing that cut the Maverick off at the shins. The Maverick flailed as his body plummeted to the ground.

The prototype stood up, his wound now gone and the use of his legs restored to him. His full attention immediately focused on the other two Mavericks, who stood only a few feet down the slope from him. The one with the large gun tried to bring it to bear, but was unable to before XT-203 dashed towards him and impaled the Maverick in the chest with his left saber.

There was a strange sensation in the prototype's arm. As though something were flowing from the Maverick into him, something that made him feel . . . stronger. The Maverick slumped over, drained of life, his rifle falling to the ground. The prototype withdrew his saber from the Maverick and his body fell to the ground. He took his eyes off of his victim and saw his third foe backing away from him.

The only Maverick left standing opened fire with the assault rifle he carried, a look of terror on his face as the bullets ricocheted off XT-203's armor. The Maverick turned and fled down the hill. XT-203 leapt into the air. The jump carried him directly over the Maverick and the prototype brought both of his blades downward in a swift motion as he descended to the ground. The sabers tore into the Maverick's back, causing the reploid to collapse on the ground, screaming in pain. In a swift motion, XT-203 landed, planted a foot on his foe's back and stabbed downward with his right saber. He felt more strength flowing into him as the Maverick's screams suddenly ceased.

XT-203 turned back towards the face of the hill, remembering the Maverick whose legs he had cut off. The Maverick was making an attempt to crawl up the hill in the vain hope of finding safety on the other side. XT-203 traveled up the slope in bounding leaps, reaching the last Maverick quickly. He raised his saber, preparing to disabuse the Maverick of the idea of escaping, when the Maverick rolled over and opened up with his rifle. To the Maverick's shock, the rounds only made small indentions in the prototype's armor that quickly vanished as the armor healed itself.

A gold blade slashed downwards, ending the Maverick's existence and transferring all of its strength to XT-203. While the Maverick's eyes became empty and lifeless, the prototype's eyes glowed brighter as he reveled in the newfound power. The sensation was addicting and even as the impulse to attack faded, he found himself wanting to experience the feeling again.

It took him a moment before he emerged from his reverie enough to realize that the voice that had gone silent. He still didn't know who the voice belonged to, but the prototype was still too caught up in the euphoria caused by draining his foes of their very essence to really care at the moment.

The feeling continued to fade and the prototype turned around, sensing that the other Mavericks he had detected earlier were getting closer. A boiling hatred for the Mavericks once more arose within him and the voice began to whisper its commands to him once more. _Infect, destroy, delete_. Without hesitation, XT-203 set off to find the remaining Mavericks.

AN: Thanks for reading, please review!


	5. Chapter 4

AN: Sorry it took so long for such a short chapter, but I finally got it done. Enjoy and please R&R

**Chapter 4**

The sounds of battle echoed through the halls of Hunter HQ. Weapons fire, screams, shouts and smoke filled the air. The dim, red of the emergency lighting cast eerie shadows in the corridors. The walkways were cluttered with debris from collapsed ceilings and walls; revealing the hardened steel supports that served as a frame for the base. In some places, live wires left hanging out of damaged power conduits and pulses of energy shot out of them into the floor.

X ran as quickly as he could through the hallway leading from the Unit 17's barracks, side-stepping debris piles and the bodies of slain Hunters. He ran towards the sounds of gunfire and clashing saber blades. The smoke and weak light made it hard to see and he tripped over a fallen I-beam.

X picked himself up off the ground and resumed his sprint through the halls of the Hunter base. He passed a body that was leaning against a wall, its head lolling to one side. X skidded to a halt as he caught sight of a familiar v-shaped crest on the reploid's helmet. The four ray-like spikes painted around a red gem on the corpse's armor only served to verify its identity as the 17th's second in command.

X started towards the sounds of battle once more, there was nothing he could do for Slag now and every second he delayed would result in another dead friend. Before long he came upon Tempest's decapitated body and Gunner's remains, his body pummeled almost beyond recognition. He didn't stop running as he passed their bodies and the cadavers of other Hunters he knew, too many people were already dead for him to risk slowing down now.

X rushed onward through the twisting, seemingly endless corridors. The sounds of sabers crashing against one another was louder now, he was almost there. He leapt over the body of Zero's second in command, a female reploid with emerald hair and gray trimmed, forest green recon armor laying face down in a puddle of her own blood, and continued onward. As he rounded the last corner, X heard a scream and saw Zero fall to the ground. A deep gash ran diagonally from Zero's right shoulder down to his left hip and his eyes were cold and lifeless. There was something unsettlingly familiar about their blank stare.

X just stood there staring in anger and shock at Zero's body. Whoever had done this was going to pay dearly for killing his friends. The sound of someone shuffling towards him drew X's attention back to the situation at hand. He snapped his head towards the source of the sound and immediately leveled his X-buster at the person responsible for it.

"X?"

X blinked in surprise. Alia was limping towards him. Her body was covered in cuts, her pink armor had burn marks from where someone had slashed at it with a saber, and her right arm hung lifelessly at her side. She was clutching a pistol in her left hand, aiming it at X. A look of relief appeared on the spotter's face as she lowered her weapon.

"Alia! What happened? Who did this?"

Whatever reply Alia had been about to make was lost as a luminous, yellow sphere erupted silently from her chest without leaving a mark. X's eyes widened in horror as the realization of what had just happened dawned on him. He watched helplessly as all traces of life vanished from her blue eyes, her face taking on a blank expression. The sphere shot forward and looped back towards a figure standing in the shadows behind Alia. The sphere settled itself in the shadowy figure's hand as Alia's now lifeless body collapsed in a heap on the ground.

X trembled in rage as his fired off a shot at the person shrouded in the darkness. The shot hit its target and briefly illuminated some purple armor. The figure giggled and brought the hand holding the yellow sphere towards its chest. The soft light cast by the sphere illuminated the lower part of the figure's face right before it merged with the shadowy being.

"You murderous b–" X began to mutter.

"Has anyone ever told you how cute you get when you're angry?" a woman's voice asked playfully.

"Berkana," X growled, "I don't know how you came back to life, but you're going to pay for this!"

Berkana emerged from the shadows. Her purple armor resembled a Puritan style dress and it swished along the ground as she moved slowly and casually towards X. Even in the red of the emergency lights, the gold decorations adorning her waist, forearms, and the hem of her skirt glittered. Berkana's helmet was modeled after a witch's hat decked with a large amethyst jewel set in gold and a river of blond hair spilled out from behind the helmet. A ruby-like broach sat atop a delta shaped crest of gold on the piece of cloth-like armor that draped over her shoulders so that it covered the upper part of her chest and back.

"But darling, I thought you'd be happy to see me," Berkana said with feigned shock. "It's just been such a long time since we were last together and I've missed you so," she continued in a low, seductive tone while slowly advancing towards X, "Up for a little fun blue boy?"

"I don't get what your game is lady," X snarled, keeping his buster trained on Berkana, "but I'm not playing it and there's no way I'm going to allow you to get away with what you've done here!"

X fired off another shot and Berkana leapt to the side, twirling like a ballerina, to avoid it. The shot vanished into the darkened hall behind Berkana and she looked at X disappointedly, wagging her finger at him.

"How typical of you, X," Berkana sighed, "Always putting business before pleasure." She eyed Alia and Zero's corpses, looking as though someone had just dumped the contents of a garbage can on her front lawn. "Is this what you're so upset about?" she asked icily. Berkana's expression softened and a demure smile spread across her face as she shifted her gaze back to X. "Such concern for people so far beneath you . . . it's almost charming, really," she said with almost genuine warmth. "If it's any consolation at all, your friends are now a part of something greater than themselves – me."

That was all X could stand. Enraged, he charged Berkana. Before Berkana could react, X's left hand closed around her throat, squeezing hard, as he lifted her off the ground. X jammed his buster into her stomach at an upward angle and unleashed a fully charged blast. The plasma tore through Berkana's body easily, detonating her reactor as it did so. An unbearably bright light blinded X as the force of the explosion knocked him to the ground.

The light finally faded and X felt himself still clutching something in his left hand. He opened his eyes, expecting to see what little remained of Berkana. Instead he found himself looking into the face of a dead refugee. A look of shock and horror spread over X's face, rivaling the one frozen on that of the corpse.

He immediately released his grip and stumbled up to his feet, confused about what had just happened. X looked around himself, his horror and confusion intensifying to the point where his entire body simply went numb. He was no longer in the halls of Hunter headquarters, but in the desolated remains of a refugee camp. It was littered with the dead bodies of not only refugees, but Hunters as well. X saw the slain members of his own unit, Signas, Douglas, even Zero and his unit were among the dead. He slowly turned around in a circle, his body trembling in a mix of sorrow, anger, despair, and shock. He tried to stop moving, he tried to shut his eyes, but X was unable to do anything but look at the carnage surrounding him. He saw refugees from various camps he had visited while on patrol and more fallen Hunters. From the damage inflicted on the bodies, X could tell that every last one had been shot with a buster, a very powerful buster . . .

A feeling of nausea came over X as a horrible possibility occurred to him. He spotted Alia's body among the dead, the whole front of her body burned away by a massive burst of plasma. A crushing weight settled on his chest and X collapsed to his knees.

_Now look what you've gone and done X,_ a woman's ghostly, echoing voice said.

_I couldn't save them . . . They were counting on me and – and I failed . . ._ _I – I killed them . . . It's all my fault . . ._ X thought, gazing at the ground in front of him, as laughter began to echo in his ears. He tried to block it out, but failed. Berkana's voice continued to laugh mockingly at him.__

A shadow fell over X. X tried to raise his head up so he could see who was casting the shadow, but his body refused to obey him. X saw the shadow raise an arm and heard the familiar hum of a beam saber. The shadow swung its arm downward . . .

X awoke with a start as he jerked his body into a sitting position. His breathing was fast and his mind raced as his eyes darted around his room. He was inside his quarters, in his own bed – which would have been soaked if he were capable of sweating.

X found himself getting out of bed and walking to the closet where he had stored his armor for the night. He forced himself to halt halfway there as he managed to get a hold of himself.

It had only been a dream, a nightmare. There was no reason for the panic coursing through him. The members of his unit were still alive. Zero was still alive. Alia was probably haggling with some bureaucrat in some far away warren. More importantly, Berkana – the scientist who was responsible for developing the so called "Soul Eraser" technology and the mastermind behind the events at Leguz Island – was dead and had been that way for almost thirteen years.

Even as foolish as the need to make sure that his friends were okay seemed in light of those facts, it refused to go away. As he struggled to calm himself, X looked at the alarm clock next to his bed. The bright green numbers stood out in the darkness and informed him that it was only three in the morning. It was still about three hours before he normally woke up. X gave the timepiece an irritated scowl.

Even before the problems with Gate, he and his unit had been on call 24 hours a day since the colony drop. On top of that they were usually pulling double and triple patrols in order to stay on top of the resulting Maverick situation. It had only been in the last week that his unit had been able to resume something close to a normal rest cycle. Now that X finally had an opportunity to get a full night's rest for a change, a stupid dream had to go and wake him up at this godforsaken hour. Why didn't dreams like that one have the decency to at least wake him up at a reasonable time? Getting a good rest had also been high on X's agenda because he had to attend a meeting about the attack on Camp 5 in the morning.

X laid back down on his bed in an attempt to resume his slumber. Sleep eluded the azure Hunter however and his thoughts began turning back towards his nightmare. Visions of the destroyed camp, his dead friends, and that shadow he had seen continued to hound his mind.

The events of the dream played over and over in X's mind, in spite of his attempts to avoid thinking about them. It seemed like the harder he tried not to let his mind dwell on the nightmare, the more he actually thought about it.

Berkana's presence in the dream had been a shock – it had been years since X had even really thought about the scientist. Even though it was only a dream, her appearance dredged up nasty memories of the past. X had done his best to banish what happened at Leguz Island to some far, dark recess of his mind. He had never wanted to think about Berkana, her bodyguard Gareth, or what they had done to the reploids there ever again. X didn't have a clue how the erasure process worked – something he had no desire to know anyhow – but what he did know was that it effectively turned a reploid into an oversized doorstop. Even after thirteen years, X had never forgotten how unsettling it was to encounter an erasure victim. There was never any sign of struggle, no trace of exterior or internal damage – it was like the reploid had simply dropped dead for no apparent reason. The creepiest thing about an erased reploid was the eyes, something about them just wasn't right.

_The more I think about it, the more the eyes of those refugees remind me of those reploids at __Leguz__Island__. But the erasure process wouldn't have inflicted any damage to those reploids and the humans in the camp would have been left unharmed . . . Berkana was the only one who knew how to erase reploids and she's dead, so those reploids couldn't have been erased . . ._ X felt a chill run down his spine as he remembered what Berkana did to Zero and Alia in his dream.

He quickly shifted his thoughts towards the shadow at the end of his dream. That was the most unusual element of the whole thing. Normally when he met his end in a dream, the person who killed him was usually some long dead foe or Sigma. This time it was just some nameless, faceless person. The worst part was that he had been totally helpless as his attacker struck him down – paralyzed by the despair of seeing all of the slaughtered Hunters and refugees in that camp and knowing that it was his fault.

X sat up and looked at his alarm clock again. An hour had passed since he woke up and he wasn't any closer to falling asleep again. He felt a little foolish for allowing a nightmare to dominate his train of thought and keep him awake. It wasn't like he hadn't had a bad dream before; in fact this one hadn't been the worst by a long shot.

_So why am I letting this one bother me so much? Maybe Zero's right about me needing a break. I've been way too stressed out lately and now I keep thinking about erased reploids . . . maybe I'm starting to crack. Of course if I do take a break, naturally some nut job is going to try and take over the world or something . . . which they may do even if don't take any time off . . ._

He looked grumpily at the alarm clock once more. _Well, I'm not going to sleep anytime soon,_ X thought resignedly, _May as well do something useful while I'm up_. He got up out of bed, donned his armor, and exited his bedroom. He stepped into the small living room that made up the bulk of his quarters and walked over to a desk made of synthetic wood sitting in the back next to the entrance to the kitchen – even though reploids didn't really need to eat or go to the bathroom humans still insisted on putting such amenities in the Hunter's living quarters. The desk had a small, portable computer terminal atop it and a pile of datapads stacked next to the computer. X plopped himself down in the desk's swivel chair and activated the terminal.

X removed his PK card from a compartment on his left gauntlet and inserted it into the computer before entering his password. He waited for a minute as the computer connected to the Hunter mainframe to verify his authorization and grant him access to the base's network.

_The meeting tomorrow has to be about the camp attacks. I should read up on that report Tanya wrote up about last week's attack and see if Lifesavor or the investigators have turned in their findings yet._

Even though everyone at the meeting would be given all the information relevant to the matter being discussed on arrival – or at least the material they cleared for – X saw no harm in looking up the information ahead of time. Especially if it helped with planning on how to deal with the situation and doing so got his mind off of that dream. X opened a search program and sent a query to the base's central computer. Then he leaned back in his seat and waited for the results.

Zero entered the conference room located on the third floor of the HQ. It was a large room with a massive rectangular table located in the middle of it. There was enough seating at the table to accommodate the leaders of every unit on base in addition to the command staff and still have a few seats left over. The table itself was made of a synthetic material that resembled polished oak and had been carefully designed to create the illusion of being hand-crafted. The seats were well cushioned and could support a fully armored reploid's weight as easily as it could a human's. The walls of the room were wood paneled – except for a portion of the back wall that was taken up by large video monitor – and the floor was covered in a grey carpet. The features blended together to create a comfortable atmosphere in the room – an atmosphere that, in Zero's opinion, was not necessarily appropriate for some of the matters that were discussed in it. The relative size and luxury of the conference room as opposed to the others on base had earned it the unofficial title of the "Grand Conference Room," but most people still just called it conference room D.

At the moment, all but five of the seats at the table were empty. Zero spotted Lifesavor and X sitting on the right-hand side of the table with Douglas and a female reploid sitting opposite of them. The female reploid was sporting dull brown recon armor over her black body suit and wore a matching helmet with a blue-gray gem mounted on it. There was a small pile of papers in front of each reploid and the empty seats next to X and the woman sitting opposite him.

Zero walked over and greeted the other Hunters at the table. He studied the woman for a moment, trying to put a name to the face. Finally, Zero grinned and said "Well, well, if it isn't the infamous Tanya," as he sat in the seat next to X.

Tanya raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Ah, the legendary Zero. I'm surprised you've heard of little ol' me."

"After what you did to those mercs in Madrid a few months ago, a lot of people know about you. Did you really cram that one guy's beam saber . . ."

"Why is that everyone always brings up that particular incident whenever they talk about that mission?" She responded with a sigh. "I mean it wasn't exactly intentional or anything – not that he probably didn't deserve it," she added with a strange glint in her brown eyes.

The glint in her eyes made Zero a bit uneasy. The incident in Madrid had involved a group of mercenaries hired by a crime syndicate confronting the members of Unit 23. The mercenaries had been summoned to deal with Tanya's team because they had been apprehending the reploid members of the syndicate, disrupting the organization's activities. When the hired guns finally managed to track the 23rd Unit to Madrid, they attempted to ambush them. The reports about what happened during the battle claimed that Tanya took out four of the seven mercenaries on her own. Zero briefly wondered if any of those mercenaries had seen that same glint when she was coming attacking them.

"So . . . anyone know what this meeting is about?" Douglas inquired as he leaned back in his chair. "I'm not sure why Signas asked me to show up. He seemed a little distracted when I talked to him yesterday."

"I assume that this is about the massacre at the refugee camp," X said tiredly. "I tried looking up the reports from the investigation and the medical examination teams last night . . . the files were sealed."

Zero saw Lifesavor shift uncomfortably in his chair and suddenly take a great interest in a scuff mark on one of his gauntlets. "Now that's unusual," Zero commented. "I could understand them possibly being classified, but sealed?"

X nodded his head in agreement. It wasn't unusual for reports with sensitive data to be classified so that only certain individuals could examine them. Sealing a file or report was a bit more extreme and put access to the data they contained out of reach of everyone except for the highest ranking members of the Maverick Hunters. The level of clearance required was beyond what any unit commander would have, even himself and Zero.

Zero looked down at the pile of papers in front of him. "What about these?" he asked pointing at the papers.

"They aren't any help at all," Tanya replied with a board look as she leafed through the pile in front of her. "They're just the reports that X and you turned in regarding the last attack and the one I submitted after the Council yanked the investigation out from under us." Her eyes narrowed as she mentioned the Council and her mouth twitched slightly.

"I wonder why they did that?" Douglas pondered aloud. "That jurisdiction bee es they gave us doesn't make sense. They've never made an issue of it before when there was an incident involving human and reploid deaths."

"Probably just an excuse to remind us that they're in charge," muttered Tanya. "They probably can't stand the fact that the Hunters are actually running the planet now."

"Given the way things are right now, you could hardly say that we have things under control," X began solemnly, "We've managed to secure a number of sectors – but there's still areas where there's no significant Hunter presence. On top of that, we're struggling just to maintain order in some the areas we do control . . ."

"But ever since Sigma first rebelled, a lot of humans have been afraid of the idea of reploids being in a position of power over them," Zero added. "Now that we're the main force behind Earth's reconstruction and not the Council, it makes sense for them to see us as a potential threat."

"Geez, you guys are just a barrel of laughs right now," replied Douglas. "To hear you guys talk, it's like things are way worse than they seem. Don't forget that we've made a lot of progress already. We've cleaned up a lot of the atmospheric toxins released by the Eurasia debris and we've already got several areas back on their way to supporting plant life again. Things are going much faster than we planned and Maverick activity isn't as bad as we feared a few months ago. Now as much fun as talking about how messed up things are right now is – why would those files be sealed and why would Signas want to hold a meeting about the attack in the most secure conference room on base?"

Zero mulled over Douglas's second question for a moment. The Grand Conference room was known to be the most secure place on base to have a discussion. The walls, ceiling, and floor were packed with equipment meant to jam any type of listening device. In addition to that, the room was soundproof and was swept several times a day by base security and Hunter Intelligence for anything suspicious.

The doors of the conference room slid open noiselessly as Signas entered the room followed by a stocky, sandy haired human in a military uniform bearing the crest of Hunter Intelligence carrying a datapad. Zero recognized the human as Aaron Fletchly, the head of the Hunter's intel division. Fletchly looked tired and pale as he followed behind Signas lethargically. It was startling contrast to his normal demeanor that it caught Zero off guard.

Fletchly seated himself across from Zero while Signas went to the head of the table and sat down in the chair there. Signas tapped on the table and a panel opened up to reveal a monitor, keyboard, and a data disk slot.

"I'm sorry to call all of you here on such short notice, but we have a possible crisis on our hands."


End file.
